Chapter 603: Karl Deserves a Refund

The sharp echo of the gunshot had barely faded before years of operational training cut through Naomi’s blinding dread.

Her scream choked in her throat as her gaze snapped past Alex’s motionless body and locked onto the panoramic windows. High on the reinforced glass, a neat, circular puncture radiated with hairline fractures.

A sniper. The round hadn’t come from the dark foyer; it had been fired from a vantage point across the avenue.

The realization turned her blood to ice. If the shooter had a clear angle into the room, a follow-up shot could pierce the glass at any second.

Pushing through the trembling weakness in her limbs, Naomi hooked her arms beneath Alex’s shoulders.

Gritting her teeth against his heavy, dead weight, she dragged him backward across the polished marble, hauling him out of the sniper’s line of sight and toward an adjoining private office.

She backed through the doorway and slammed her palm against the internal lock. The heavy reinforced door slid shut with a solid click, sealing them in the shadowed safety of the blind spot.

With the threat of another bullet cut off, the frantic rush of adrenaline abandoned her all at once.

Her knees buckled, sending her crashing down onto the carpeted floor beside his limp frame.

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over her flushed cheeks and smearing the edges of her makeup as she frantically tore at the buttons of his suit jacket.

"Alex... please, wake up," she sobbed, her voice breaking into ragged, helpless pieces. She pressed both hands against his chest, her head bowing low over him as she completely unraveled.

"I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry... It was Karl. He and the Mercers orchestrated this from the start. I was supposed to lead you here... I should have stopped you. Please, don’t do this. Don’t die on me..."

Her voice broke completely as her head bowed over his chest, hot tears spilling freely from her eyes and soaking into the fine fabric of his shirt. Her entire frame shook with helpless, violent sobs, her fingers clutching his lapels in absolute despair.

Before her weeping could spiral any further, a warm, solid hand rose from the floor. Strong fingers wrapped firmly around her trembling wrist, arresting her movement with effortless strength.

Naomi stiffened, the breath hitching violently in her throat.

Alex opened his dark eyes. They were crystal clear and completely devoid of pain, carrying a sharp, wicked amusement that stole the remaining air straight out of her lungs.

"Crying for me already, Mrs. Shaw?" Alex murmured in a low, effortless drawl, a teasing smirk curving his lips. "If I knew a single bullet would make you this desperate for me, I would have let them take the shot much sooner. "

A choked gasp tore from Naomi’s lips at the sound of his voice.

Seeing him alive and speaking sent a dizzying surge of pure happiness crashing through her chest, so intense it made her lightheaded. But the lingering terror refused to let go.

Before he could sit up, she pressed both palms firmly against his shoulders, her voice trembling with a mixture of raw relief and desperate authority.

"Don’t move!" she ordered, blinking away the tears blurring her vision. "Lie completely still! You’ve been shot, Alex. Just stay down until I find where you’re hit."

Alex didn’t argue. He remained comfortably reclined on the carpet, his head tilted back as he watched her with a slow, wicked smirk. There was a languid, unbothered satisfaction in his dark eyes, as though he were enjoying a private indulgence rather than enduring an emergency triage.

Naomi’s fingers worked with frantic speed. She tore open the remaining buttons of his tailored shirt, peeling the fine fabric away to inspect his chest, his ribs, and his collarbones.

Her palms ran across the warm, taut expanse of his skin, searching desperately for the slick stickiness of blood, the ragged tear of an entry wound, or the shattered bone of an impact point.

She checked his right side, then leaned over him to pat down his left, her breath coming in shallow, shuddering gasps that brushed against his neck.

Nothing.

There was no gaping hole. No crimson stain spreading across his torso. There wasn’t even a single blemish or a purple bruise marring his smooth, pale skin.

Naomi’s frantic hands slowly stalled, her fingertips hovering just above his chest. She stared down at him in total bewilderment, her eyes scanning his bare torso inch by inch. She looked at her own trembling hands, completely clean and free of blood, and then down at his unblemished white shirt, which showed no tears whatsoever.

The high-caliber round that had shattered the panoramic window seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Alex let out a low, rumbling laugh, the deep vibration resonating straight through her resting palms.

"Find what you were looking for, Mrs. Shaw?" he teased softly, his voice thick with unhurried amusement. "Or were you just looking for an excuse to get my clothes off?"

His dark eyes gleamed as he looked up at her flushed, tear-streaked face, his smirk widening with effortless mockery.

?"You really are a dreadful operative, you know. Blown cover, tearing off your target’s clothes, sobbing on his chest, and confessing the entire plot before the body is even cold... Karl should honestly demand a refund."

The realization of how thoroughly he had played her collided violently with the sheer exhaustion of her terror.

The dam broke all at once. Fresh tears spilled over her lashes, tracing hot paths down her cheeks as a furious, sob-choked cry escaped her throat.

Raising a clenched fist, she brought it down against his solid chest, striking him with all the fragile, trembling strength she had left.

"You bastard!" she cried, her voice cracking as she struck him again, though the blow carried no real force. "You absolute bastard! I thought you were dead! I thought you died right in front of me!"

Before she could pull her hands back, her anger dissolved into absolute vulnerability.

Naomi collapsed forward against him, wrapping her slender arms tightly around his neck.

She buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, hugging him with a desperate, suffocating tightness as if terrified he might vanish if she let go for even a second. Her entire body shook with ragged sobs, her fingers digging deep into his hair and the back of his suit.

Unable to bear the distance, she pulled her head back slightly, her tear-streaked face flushed and wild with emotion.

Without a shred of caution or hesitation left in her soul, Naomi leaned down and pressed her mouth against his in a desperate, trembling kiss.

She kissed his lips, then the corner of his mouth, and then his jaw, tasting the salt of her own tears against his warm skin.

"I’m sorry," she whispered frantically against his mouth, her lips meeting his again in a breathless, pleading rhythm. "I’m so sorry, Alex... I’m so sorry. I should have told you. God, I’m so sorry..."