Page 53 of Mile High Daddy

Like he knew I would try.

The night stretches between us, filled with the echoes of gunfire and distant shouts. But right here, in this moment, it’s just us.

Me.

And the man I just tried to run from.

And in his gaze, I see the promise of something I don’t know if I can survive.

“Don’t,” he warns, his voice low.

I swallow hard, my pulse hammering.

A gunshot rips through the night.

Mikhail curses, stumbling back, his hand flying to his side.

My breath catches.

He’s been shot.

For a moment, I’m frozen. My heart slams against my ribs as I watch him stagger, blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt. His men shout, chaos erupting as they move to cover him.

The assailant is already gone. Whoever fired the shot has disappeared into the night.

Mikhail’s men are getting closer. They’re focused on him, not me.

This is it.

I swallow hard, my pulse a frantic drum in my ears.

Run, Lila.

I take one last look at Mikhail—his face twisted in pain, his gun still clutched in his bloody hand.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper under my breath.

Then Iturn and run.

I don’t think. I don’t hesitate.

Irun.

My heels click against the pavement as I bolt toward the other end of the street. My dress is too tight, the silk clinging to my legs, making it harder to move. I grab the fabric and hike it up, tearing the hem as I sprint.

Behind me, I hear shouts. Someone yells my name.

I don’t stop.

I weave through the darkened streets, my lungs burning, my legs screaming for relief. A taxi speeds past. A group of people standoutside a bar, laughing, oblivious to the storm unraveling just a few blocks away.

I keep running.

Then, finally, I see it.

A bus. It’s old and slightly rusted, but the doors are still open, the last of the passengers climbing in. I push forward, nearly tripping over my own feet as I reach it. My hands slap against the side as I haul myself up the steps, gasping for breath. The driver barely spares me a glance as I throw a crumpled bill at him, my fingers shaking.

I don’t care where it’s going. I don’task.

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