Chapter 23
Julian hadn’t even opened his mouth when two more gunshots rang out.
Footsteps approached rapidly–two armed men stormed the second floor from the back stairwell. One of them shouted, his voice sharp, “Drop your weapon! Now!”
Aliana turned quickly–and froze. One of the men standing before her was Andrian. He wore a dark tactical vest, gun raised, his eyes sharp. A faint, cynical smile curled his lips.
“Finally found you… Nyx,” Andrian said flatly.
Aliana stood frozen for a moment. Her mind raced, trying to process the situation.
Did Andrian know Nyx’s true identity?
Was he here to save Julian? If so, that meant they were working together.
But earlier, there hadn’t been a single sign of interaction between Julian and Andrian.
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Her confusion gave Julian the opening he needed. He shoved Aliana with all his strength and bolted toward the stairs.
Before she could chase him, Kestrel reappeared from the lingering smoke. He grabbed Julian and pulled him toward the emergency exit.
They fled.
MIGHT TH
ོ་དང་་་ད་ད། ་ད་ད་་་ཞིན་ན་ ད་ད་་ས ་ ོ་་་ ད་དང་ཚར་མད་ཅན་དག་ཀྱི་དད་དད་དང་ཅི་མ་གང་ང་ད་ད་པར་ར་
ོད་པ་ནང་དང་། གནས་༼བོ་ས་ར་o་དང་ གས་ཅ་ དང ་
Aliana moved to pursue, but more gunshots cut through the air. Bullets struck the e wall near her shoulder.
Andrian and the man with him blocked her path.
“Don’t move!” barked the other man, weapon still trained on her.
E
“Surrender, Nyx,” Andrian said, advancing slowly, gun never wavering.
Aliana stood her ground, chest rising and falling. She still couldn’t fully grasp Andrian’s intentions.
Was he here as an enemy? Or something else?
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If he meant to take her down, why show his face at all? If this was a hunt, he could’ve sent others to do the job.
“Put down your weapon,” Andrian ordered, voice firm.
“You came to save Julian!” Aliana asked calmly.
Andrian didn’t answer. His gaze was unreadable. He showed no signs of recognizing Julian. It was confusing. But one thing was clear–he had come for Nyx.
“Surrender. Don’t make this worse,” he said, closing the distance.
Aliana stepped back. “You’re the one making it worse. You really don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
“I do. That’s why I’m here.”
Andrian lunged suddenly, trying to grab Aliana’s wrist and disarm her. But she was faster. She spun, twisted her body, and kicked his pistol–hand, sending the weapon clattering to the floor.
But Andrian was no mere executive.
He moved swiftly, trained. In a flash, he struck at Aliana’s chest. She blocked it but staggered back.
The two clashed–blow after blow, strike after counterstrike.
They fought at close quarters
The other man with Andrian tried to take a shot, but the movement was too fast, too close. There was no safe angle.
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Chapter 23
Andrian pressed Aliana against the wall near a logistics rack, trying to pin her down.
In the struggle, he accidentally tugged loose her forearm guard.
The bandage beneath unraveled–revealing the wound that hadn’t yet healed.
Andrian stared. His eyes widened as they locked onto the injury, then slowly shifted up to meet hers.
Silver eyes. Cold, unwavering.
Something in her gaze froze him–something familiar.
“You…”
Aliana didn’t give him time to think.
She shoved him hard, breaking free, and sprinted toward the shattered window on the right.
She dove through the glass.
“NYX!” Andrian shouted, but it was too late.
The other man raised his gun–fired.
The bullet struck Aliana in the left shoulder midair. But she kept falling, crashing behind a metal container.
Rafe was already waiting. He darted forward, catching her as she staggered.
“We have to go. Now!” he yelled, supporting her weight.
Aliana nodded, pain coursing through her arm. They climbed into a black car hidden between old trucks.
The engine roared to life, and within seconds, they sped out of the warehouse compound.
On the second floor, Andrian ran to the window. He caught a glimpse of the black car–Nyx’s escape vehicle–vanishing around the
corner.
Andrian swore under his breath. His jaw clenched.
Nyx had slipped away again.
And this time, it wasn’t his team’s failure–it was his own moment of hesitation.
“Damn it..” he muttered. “She got away again.”
He took a deep breath and rubbed his face.
The wound on Nyx’s arm… her eyes… her calm demeanor… they were too familiar. It had thrown him off.
The man beside Andrian stepped forward. “Should we pursue?”
Andrian shook his head. “Too late. They’re gone.”
“Nyx is injured. She may not have gone far,” the man added.
Still, Andrian didn’t move. His thoughts were no longer on the escape–but on the new possibility now echoing in his mind.
Nyx’s gaze wasn’t that of a stranger,
Not of an enemy he had known before.
It was… Aliana’s gaze.
Far from the warehouse, Rafe eased the car into a slower pace.
He glanced at Aliana in the passenger seat. She was still conscious, but her face had gone pale.
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Chapter 23
Her breathing was heavy. Blood from the gunshot wound on her shoulder had dried in places, but it still soaked beneath the body
armor.
Rafe clenched his jaw, weighing the worst–case scenarios.
Taking Aliana to a hospital was out of the question. A gunshot wound would draw too much attention. Doctors, nurses—even security officers–would ask too many questions. And once her identity was revealed—as Andrian Velor’s wife and a Zavier heiress–the media would be on it within hours.
Rafe couldn’t risk it.
He pulled into the underground parking lot of a modest four–star hotel. It wasn’t flashy, but it was discreet and quiet–safe from paparazzi, civilians, or curious city officials.
Aliana was semi–conscious as Rafe helped her out of the car.
Despite her shallow breaths and weakening body, her expression was unchanged: cold and composed.
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He guided her into a service elevator and up to a room he had reserved under a false identity. Once the door shut tightly behind them, he locked it and ensured all curtains were drawn.
Sit,” Rafe said shortly.
Aliana obeyed, settling slowly on the edge of the bed without a word.
Rafe opened his bag, pulling out what supplies he had: alcohol, sterile bandages, scissors, and a small pair of tweezers.
There wasn’t time for a proper medical kit. But this wound, he was confident, he could manage.
He examined the injury and sighed. “You’re lucky it’s just a graze.”
Aliana said nothing, quietly removing her armor.
Rafe assisted, careful not to touch any more than necessary. When the blood–soaked cloth came off, the wound was deep enough to alarm him, though the bleeding had mostly stopped.
He took a breath before starting.
He wasn’t a trained doctor–not like Aliana. But he’d learned a lot from her. Enough to help.
“I’m going to clean it,” he said while preparing cotton and alcohol.
Aliana gave a faint nod.
Rafe cut away the cloth stuck to her skin and gently wiped the wound.
When the alcohol stung her exposed flesh, Aliana barely flinched. No groans. No grimace.
Rafe glanced up. “You don’t feel pain?”
“I do,” she replied flatly. “But it doesn’t matter.”
The room fell into silence–only the soft sounds of fabric, clinking metal, and the tick of a wall clock remained.
Once the wound was dressed and secured, Rafe sat in the chair beside the bed. “You need to rest.”
Aliana began adjusting her clothes. “I need to go home.”
“Home?” Rafe stood up. “You were just shot. We don’t even know who attacked you.”
Aliana didn’t answer. She stood, walked to the window, and slightly parted the curtain–peering out at the quiet city below
“I have to find something out,” she said softly.
Kafe stared at her back. “You can do that later. For now, rest. You need painkillers.”
“I can’t wait,” Aliana replied firmly. “There’s something important I need to confirin”
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Chapter 23
“Ma’am.” Rafe’s tone rose. “You’re in no condition to be out.”
Aliana turned, eyes locked on his.
Her silver gaze was sharp, unyielding.
“Stop nagging. Just get me clothes.”
Rafe frowned. “Clothes?”
e
“I can’t go home looking like this,” she said, spreading her arms–blood stains clearly marking her shirt and shoulders.
Rafe studied the mess: the shoulder, the chest, the back–it was too much to cover up with just a jacket.
The outfit wasn’t just ruined–it was a walking scandal for a woman of Aliana’s public stature.
“I need dresses,” Aliana said suddenly. Her voice remained cool. “Formal cuts. Simple design. Long sleeves to cover the wound. Not too tight. Neutral colors. Dark brown, black, or navy.”
Rafe paused. He approached her, eyes fixed. He knew there was no stopping her once she had made up her mind.
Fine. But one condition.”
Aliana raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“While I’m gone, lie down. Rest–even if just for
a little
“Okay,” she said curtly.”
Rafe grabbed his wallet and keys, then walked to the door.
Before leaving, he made sure Aliana was seated on the bed.
She exhaled slowly. Her shoulder throbbed, but her mind was racing too fast to register the pain.
She replayed the moment Andrian appeared-
in tactical gear, with a gun, and a look in his eyes that suggested.., recognition.
“How does he know about Nyx?”
Aliana whispered as she closed her eyes, replaying her fight with Andrian.
She hadn’t expected the man to be that skilled in hand–to–hand combat.
Aliana let out a low growl.
Everything that had happened tonight was too blurred, too tangled.
And what unsettled her the most–was Andrian’s sudden appearance, and the fact that Julian had escaped again.
She leaned back against the headboard.
Reaching for the bottle of water and the medicine Rafe had left on the nightstand, she took a drink and swallowed the pills.
Her mind continued to race.
But her body had begun to feel heavier–the pain in her shoulder growing sharper now that the adrenaline had worn off.
A few minutes later, under the influence of the medicine,
Allana drifted off to sleep.
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