Emilia's POV

The shoot was nearly over. The sun had started to set, casting a golden glow across the city skyline. I stood on the rooftop of the studio, letting the wind whip through my hair as the cameras clicked around me. The photographer called for one last pose, and I exhaled slowly, forcing a smile as I turned toward the light.

Then, everything changed.

A sudden, sharp sound cut through the air—a crack, like a firework going off too close. Shouts erupted. My body froze before my mind could catch up, instincts screaming at me to move, to run.

Strong hands yanked me back, my guard shielding me before I even realized what had happened. "Get down!" someone barked, and I felt myself being pulled behind a concrete barrier. My heart hammered against my ribs as I struggled to process what was going on.

A gunshot. Someone had fired a gun.

I barely heard the frantic voices over the blood rushing in my ears. My guard was talking into his earpiece, his grip firm on my arm. "Shooter spotted on the adjacent rooftop. Security is handling it."

Shooter. Someone had tried to kill me.

I forced myself to take deep breaths, steadying my shaking hands. No. No, this isn't anything. It's just a desperate fool looking for attention. It's nothing I can't handle. I swallowed hard, past the lump in my throat, and straightened my shoulders. "I'm fine," I said, my voice calmer than I felt. "Let's just get out of here."

They tried to protest, but I didn't let them. If I act normal, it'll be normal. If I pretend nothing happened, then maybe the fear gnawing at my stomach will disappear. Maybe.

Valeria's POV

Lucia's voice was distant, like a murmur through fog.

"Did you hear me?" she repeated, sharper now.

I blinked, forcing my attention back to her, my hands clenching against the sheets. "Say it again."

Lucia hesitated, shifting uncomfortably before speaking. "Someone tried to kill Emilia at the shoot today. A gunman. Her guards handled it, but—"

My vision blurred. The sheets twisted under my fingers as I gripped them tighter, my nails biting into the fabric. Someone tried to kill her.

I couldn't breathe.

Every muscle in my body locked up, my mind whirling too fast for me to grab hold of a single thought. Emilia. Someone had her in their sights, a finger on the trigger, ready to take her from me—

I shoved the blankets off, swinging my legs over the bed. Pain tore through my side, sharp and unforgiving, but it didn't matter. I had to see her. I had to make sure.

Lucia's hands landed on my shoulders, trying to stop me. "Valeria, stop. She's fine. She's on her way back. You need to—"

"Get out," I growled.

Lucia hesitated, then sighed, stepping back. "Just... don't do anything reckless."

She left, closing the door softly behind her.

I stared at the floor, heart hammering in my chest, rage curling like smoke inside me. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be safe. She wasn't supposed to be in danger—not while I was still breathing.

I flexed my fingers, my knuckles turning white. I should have been there.

Emilia's POV

By the time I arrived home, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving exhaustion in its place. The last thing I expected was for Valeria to know.

I barely stepped through the doorway before I heard her voice. "Come here."

I blinked, looking up to find Valeria sitting up in bed, her dark eyes locked onto mine. She wasn't lounging like usual, wasn't pretending to be indifferent. Her entire body was rigid, tense, something dangerous simmering beneath the surface.

I hesitated. "Valeria?"

She motioned again, sharper this time. "Come. Here."

I moved toward her cautiously, confusion prickling at the back of my neck. The second I got close enough, her hands shot out, gripping my face—not rough, not quite gentle, but desperate. Her fingers pressed into my skin as she turned my head side to side, her eyes scanning every inch of me, searching.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, she yanked me forward and a moan left my mouth at how dominant she was being, her hands running over my arms, my shoulders, my waist—too fast, too rough. Like she needed to be sure I was real.

"Valeria, stop—" I gasped, feeling my entire body burning at her sudden attention. but she didn't hear me. She was frantic now, her hands gripping too tightly, her breaths coming out too sharp.

Then, she reached my wrist, her thumb brushing against it, and I winced. Her entire body froze.

Her breath hitched, her eyes darkening, her fingers twitching against my skin. Like she was afraid to touch me now.

I swallowed hard, still catching my breath from the intensity of it all. My skin burned where she had touched me, but not from pain—from something else, something deeper. Something I didn't dare name.

"Like this," I murmured, my voice softer now. Slowly, I reached up, guiding her wrist with my fingers. I pressed her palm flat against my waist, keeping it there. "Gently, I am not going anywhere."

Her fingers twitched again. She hesitated. Then, almost imperceptibly, her touch softened.

My breath came quicker. She was listening.

She let me show her how to touch me without hurting, how to be careful, how to feel without breaking. The anger in her grip faded, replaced by something more fragile. Her palm rested flat against my side, warm, steady, grounding and it was making my head spin. even though the way she was touching me was not sexual, she still made my knees buckle

She swallowed. Her jaw clenched. "You could have died."

I exhaled slowly, brushing my fingers over her knuckles. "But I didn't."

Her gaze flickered to mine, something unreadable swirling behind her eyes. "I should have been there."

I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper. "You're here now."

For a moment, neither of us moved. The air between us was thick with something I didn't dare name. Valeria's fingers flexed slightly, a silent apology in the way she held me now—still protective..

Then, just when I thought she might let go, she dragged her fingers lower, tracing the curve of my waist, her touch barely there, but enough to make my breath catch.

I shuddered, my heart slamming against my ribs. This touch was different. This wasn't just concern.

Valeria froze, as if realizing what she had just done. Her hand hovered for a fraction of a second too long, before she quickly pulled back, her entire body tense.

I licked my lips, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. My skin still tingled where she had touched me, where her grip had been too strong, then too gentle.

I barely had time to process my surroundings before Dani rushed in the room and ran toward me, hands immediately reaching for me. Her fingers skimmed down my arms, before brushing against my waist, her touch lingering like she was staking a claim. She cupped my face as if confirming I was still in one piece.

"Oh, babe, thank God," she breathed, exhaling sharply as she pressed her forehead against mine. "I was losing my mind when I heard what happened."

I sighed, too exhausted to argue but unsurprised by her dramatics. "I'm fine, Dani. It wasn't that serious."

She pulled back, her brows furrowing. "Not that serious? Are you kidding me? Someone shot at you, Emilia." Her hands slid lower, fingers pressing into my waist as if grounding herself in my presence. "You could've—" She cut herself off, shaking her head, and instead, she just held onto me.

I was about to reassure her when I noticed movement from the bed. Valeria sat up stiffly, dark eyes locked onto me—not at Dani, not at the conversation unfolding, but at me. Her jaw was tight, her posture rigid, and though she hadn't said a word, something about the way she stared sent an unexplainable shiver down my spine. Her fingers curled against the sheets, knuckles turning white, her entire body tense with something unspoken.

Before I could fully process it, the sound of heavy footsteps filled the room, followed by the familiar presence of my father. The shift in energy was immediate. Dani's grip remained on me, but her posture straightened, as if instinctively aware of his presence. Valeria, however, didn't look up at all.

My father barely acknowledged anyone else as he approached, his sharp gaze sweeping over me with a familiarity I had known all my life. His version of concern was always subtle, always measured, but I caught the tightness in his jaw, the way he scanned me as if searching for injuries. "Are you hurt?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying demand in the words.

"No," I answered quickly. "Like I told Dani, I'm fine."

His exhale was short, relieved but not entirely relaxed. Without another word, he reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small folded paper. The moment I saw it, my stomach tightened. Something about it unsettled me before I even read it.

"This was delivered to my office after the attack." He held it out, and I took it carefully, unfolding it with hesitant fingers.

Next time, I won't miss.

The words sent a chill through me.

Before I could fully react, Valeria's hand shot out, snatching the note from my grip with a force that startled me. I turned to her in surprise, but her expression had darkened, her fingers tightening around the paper as if she could crush the meaning out of it. Her eyes scanned the words, her breathing sharp and controlled, but I could feel the fury radiating off her in waves.

She wasn't moving. She wasn't speaking. But she was barely holding herself together.

My father's voice cut through the tension. "This wasn't meant for you." He spoke with certainty, his gaze unreadable. "They were targeting me."

I frowned, glancing between him and the note still clutched in Valeria's grip. "So the same guy that asked Dominic to end me?"

"This was a message," he continued, his voice firm. "A warning, meant to get my attention. They went after you because they knew it would send the strongest message."

The weight of his words settled over me, heavy and suffocating. I should've been surprised. Maybe a part of me even wished I was, but deep down, I always knew being his daughter made me a liability.

I inhaled slowly, steeling myself as I turned toward him. "So, who did you piss off ?"

Dani sucked in a sharp breath beside me, but my father didn't even flinch. His lips twitched slightly, but there was no humor in it. "More people than I can count."

I crossed my arms, unimpressed. "Well, that narrows it down."

As the conversation continued, Dani's hand drifted again, moving over my back in soft, familiar strokes, the way she used to do when we were together. I barely noticed at first, too focused on my father, too caught up in piecing together the implications of the note.

But then, something shifted. The air felt heavier. I flicked my gaze sideways, instinctively, and my stomach tightened.

Valeria was no longer looking at the note. She was staring at Dani's hands.

The way they lingered too long against my waist. The way Dani pressed in just a little closer, speaking softly, her presence overly familiar.

Valeria's fingers curled tighter around the note, the paper crumpling slightly in her grip. Her entire posture was rigid, her shoulders squared, but her hands—her hands were trembling. She was trying to stay still, trying not to react, but I could see it. The tension coiling in her jaw, the sharp flicker in her gaze..

Dani leaned in, her voice low, intimate. "You should have never left me, Emilia. I was worried sick." Her fingers brushed against my waist again, a deliberate touch that should've felt comforting. But for the first time, I was hyper-aware of it.

Valeria's grip on the note tightened further. And then Dani's hand slid lower. Her fingers skimmed the curve of my thigh.

Valeria didn't move. She didn't lash out, didn't say a word, but her entire body had gone completely still, like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.

Valeria's POV

The tension in the room was suffocating, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn't shake. My fingers still clenched around the crumpled note, the words burning into my vision as if they had been carved into my skin. Next time, I won't miss. The thought of someone aiming a gun at Emilia, their finger hovering over the trigger, made something unhinged twist inside me.

And yet, she acted as if none of it mattered.

Emilia let out a slow exhale, rolling her shoulders as if the conversation had drained her. "We can talk about this later," she said, her voice light, too casual for the weight of the situation. "Right now, I just need a shower and some rest."

Dani, still entirely too close to her, reached for Emilia's wrist, her touch far too familiar. "Then I'll stay with you. Make sure you—"

"No," Emilia interrupted, her tone firm, leaving no room for argument. "I'll be fine, Dani. I just need some space."

Dani's lips parted, like she wanted to push further, but Emilia was already ushering her toward the door. "I'll see you both tomorrow," she added, her voice carrying that finality that left no room for discussion.

Dani hesitated, casting a quick glance toward me before finally stepping back. I met her gaze head-on, unreadable, unwilling to give her anything. She smirked—smirked, as if this was all some kind of game to her. My jaw tightened, but I said nothing. I only watched as she exited the room, the door shutting behind her.

And then, it was just us.

The silence was thick between me and Emilia, the air still charged from everything that had happened. She lingered near the door for a moment before turning toward me, her eyes scanning my face with something unreadable.

"You should lay back down," Emilia said softly, moving toward me, her steps slow, deliberate.

The second she was close enough, my fingers curled around her wrist, pulling her toward me with more force than I intended. She let out a small gasp, stumbling slightly, her free hand instinctively landing against my shoulder to steady herself. But I didn't let go. I didn't give her a chance to pull away.

Emilia's breath hitched as I pulled her between my legs, my grip unrelenting, fingers pressing into the curve of her waist. She was warm, real, alive, but my pulse refused to slow. My chest was still too tight, my mind still burning with everything I had barely held back.

Her eyes widened, surprise flickering across her face as she stared down at me. "Valeria—"

"Exactly how many women do you let touch you?" The words were hoarse, raw, slipping from my lips before I could stop them. But I didn't care. I needed to know.

She blinked, caught off guard, her mouth parting slightly. "It wasn't—"

My grip tightened for just a second before I forced myself to ease it. My fingers flexed against her waist, torn between holding her tighter and letting go altogether. The unbearable frustration, the suffocating helplessness I had felt the moment I learned what had happened to her, still clung to me like a vice.

Emilia inhaled sharply, her breath coming out uneven—not unaffected, not untouched by this. I felt it. The heat between us. The way her body reacted even as she tried to stay composed, as if she wasn't sure whether to push me away or pull me closer.

She licked her lips, hesitating for half a second before speaking, her voice quieter now. "Valeria..."

I exhaled sharply, my fingers brushing against the thin fabric of her shirt, feeling the warmth beneath. I wasn't sure if I was trying to reassure myself or if I simply couldn't let go.