Page 141 of When Hearts Awaken

Ainsley points her finger toward a room. “Sh-She was checking on Maddy for me in the VIP lounge.” I wave Anthony over and we run toward the VIP lounge, my breathing quickening. Ainsley calls after me, “I hear people arguing inside and it’s locked!”

Bang!

Shrill screams pierce the air.

I flinch at the booming sound of the gunshot emanating from the room. My heart slams against my rib cage as bone-crushing fear threatens to decimate me on the spot.

No. Taylor. God no.

My chest tightens, icy adrenaline flooding my veins and I yank the doorknob, finding it locked as Ainsley said. I hurtle my side against the door and it barely budges.

More shrieks and cries come from the room, followed by muffled whispers.

Desperation carves inside me, the heavy weight of dread smothering my lungs. I need to get inside. My spinning mind is filled with only one thought—Taylor.

Anthony motions at me to kick the door at the hinges with him and in a synchronized effort, we deliver sharp kicks, and the door finally gives under our assault.

We burst in, and a shocked gasp traps itself in my throat when I see Ian holding a gun, pointed to a man on the ground, the distinct burning smell of a gunshot in the air. Taylor’s face is leached of color, her arms stretched outward as she shields a quivering Maddy behind her.

She glances at me, her eyes widening in terror. My pulse riots inside me in fear and sweat beads on the back of my neck.

“Ian, put the fucking gun down,” I growl.

Chapter 58

My heart seizes, mybreath trapped in my lungs as I watch the man I love step into the room, his face twisted in fury.

“Ian, put the fucking gun down.” His lethal rasp promises nothing but violence if Ian disobeys.

Charles stalks toward us, a vein bulging on his forehead, his face flushed and teeth bared.

Sir Ian stares at me and swallows, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He slowly raises his hands and gently sets the gun on the ground. Charles hurries over and kicks it away before grabbing his uncle by the collar. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Anthony charging forward to pick up the weapon, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Maddy shakes behind me. I spin around and pull her into my embrace. “It’s over, Maddy. It’s over. He’s dead.”

My arms shake as I stare at the tall man lying at my feet, blood pooling onto the carpet from the bullet wound on the back of his head, his blank eyes staring at the ceiling.

Laurent Archambeau.

The Paris police commissioner, the angry man I heard in the dark room at Palais Garnier, before Charles pulled me into the hidden alcove.

One second he was threatening to kill me for continuing my investigation, and the next second, Sir Ian stepped into the room and shot him in the head, a cold-blooded lethality in his gaze I’d never seen before.

Tears stream down Maddy’s face as she sobs, seemingly unable to speak. Then she shakes her head vigorously. “N-No,” she whispers, “It’s n-not over, no, no, no—”

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Charles slams his uncle on the wall and we flinch as the windows shake. “You’re a fucking monster.”

Sir Ian stays silent, his lips twitching as he stares at his nephew.

“Tell me!” Charles roars.

What?I stare at him and at Archambeau, then at Maddy quivering in my arms.What’s going—

My breath hitches. A chilly realization. The sensations of ants crawling on my skin are back and more vicious than ever before. Shaking my head, disoriented, I sway on my feet before backing up, away from the uncle and nephew glaring at each other, away from the dead man a few feet in front of us, away from Maddy, the dancer who reminds me so much of my younger self, who is now curled up into a ball on the ground, crying her heart out.

My back slams against the wall, my fingers stiff and icy. I watch the man I love confront the dance director I’ve worked under for the better part of the year. My body blares war sirens, begging me to listen to it this time.

Because Sir Ian is the monster in my memories.

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