Chapter 4 - The Night Someone Tried to Kill Her
Derek moved Jasmine into his penthouse the same night.
She protested.
He ignored her.
“You have people everywhere.”
“Exactly.”
“I have a bedroom.”
“You have a guest suite.”
“I don't need a guard outside my door.”
“You do.”
“Derek.”
He looked at her.
“I’m not asking.”
She crossed her arms.
“You really enjoy ordering people around.”
“Usually.”
“And me?”
“Not nearly enough.”
She glared.
For the first time since everything had begun, Jasmine laughed.
Derek smiled.
The sound seemed to relax something inside him.
But peace lasted less than twenty-four hours.
At 2:17 a.m., a window exploded.
Jasmine woke to the sound of shattered glass.
Derek was already moving.
He crossed the room, pulled her down, and covered her body with his.
Another bullet struck the wall above them.
“Stay here.”
“Derek!”
He vanished through the doorway.
Gunfire erupted in the hallway.
Security shouted.
Jasmine curled into herself.
Then she heard a familiar voice.
Marcus.
“East stairwell!”
More shots.
Then silence.
Five minutes later, Derek returned.
Blood covered his sleeve.
Jasmine ran toward him.
“You’re hurt.”
“Not mine.”
He looked at her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
His hands touched her face.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes.
For a moment, he looked exhausted.
“I can’t do this again.”
“What?”
“Almost losing you.”
Jasmine touched his chest.
“You didn't.”
“But I could.”
His forehead rested against hers.
“I love you.”
Jasmine stopped breathing.
It was not dramatic.
He didn't kneel.
He didn't make a grand speech.
He simply said it.
Like a truth too large to keep hidden.
“I love you,” he repeated.
Jasmine's eyes filled with tears.
“I love you too.”
Derek stared at her.
“Say that again.”
“I love you.”
He kissed her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like she was something precious.
When they separated, Jasmine whispered, “What happens now?”
Derek looked toward the broken window.
“Now we find who did this.”
The investigation led to an unexpected name.
Evan Cole.
Jasmine's mother's brother.
Her uncle.
A man Jasmine hadn't seen since childhood.
He had worked inside Drake Industries twenty years earlier.
And he was the last person known to have spoken to Samuel before his death.
Derek tracked him to an abandoned warehouse near the river.
Evan was waiting.
“You finally figured it out.”
Derek raised his gun.
“Where is Victor?”
“Coming.”
Jasmine stepped forward.
“Why did you disappear?”
Evan looked at her.
“Because your father told me to.”
“Why?”
“Because someone inside his own family wanted him dead.”
Derek froze.
“Who?”
Evan's eyes moved toward him.
“Your grandfather.”
The silence was absolute.
Derek's grandfather had died years earlier.
But Evan explained.
“He believed Samuel was dangerous because Samuel knew the truth about Victor’s network.”
Derek lowered his weapon slightly.
“My grandfather worked with Victor?”
“For a time.”
Jasmine's chest tightened.
“Then my father died because of them.”
“Yes.”
“And my mother knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because you were a child.”
A sound came from outside.
Cars.
Evan turned.
“They’re here.”
Derek immediately grabbed Jasmine.
“Get behind me.”
Warehouse doors opened.
Men poured inside.
Victor entered last.
Tall.
Silver-haired.
Smiling.
“Derek.”
Derek raised his weapon.
“Victor.”
Victor looked past him.
Then at Jasmine.
“So this is Samuel’s daughter.”
Jasmine's hand tightened around Derek's.
Victor smiled.
“You look exactly like him.”
Derek stepped forward.
“You're done.”
Victor laughed.
“Not even close.”
He pointed at Jasmine.
“Ask her what she remembers from the night her father died.”
Jasmine shook her head.
“I was nine.”
“Yes.”
Victor's smile disappeared.
“And children remember more than adults think.”
Something flickered in Jasmine’s mind.
A smell.
Rain.
A red suitcase.
Her father kneeling in front of her.
His voice.
Remember the song, sweetheart.
A number.
Nine.
One.
Eight.
She gasped.
Derek turned.
“What?”
“I remember.”
May you like
Victor smiled.
“There it is.”
