Page 30 of Rafi

The office door crashes open behind me, splintering like it’s made of paper. My pulse spikes, and I slam my hand down on the panic button embedded in the wall.

The sirens explode, blaring through the shelter. The noise is deafening, shaking the walls, but it doesn’t slow them down. If anything, it makes them move faster.

I grab the bag hanging by the door, slipping my phone inside and tightening my grip on the gun. My breath comes fast and shallow, but my steps are steady. I make my way to the back exit, where the car park waits.

Every sound—the scrape of boots, the shattered glass crunching underfoot, the guttural voices shouting commands—chases me like a predator.

I push open the back door and step into the car park. The night air hits me like a slap, cold and biting against my skin.

“Over here!”

The shout snaps my head around. A man emerges from the shadows, his weapon glinting under the dim security light. Mystomach clenches, and I barely have time to react before another figure joins him.

They lunge towards me.

I raise the gun and fire blindly, no time to think. The crack of the shot echoes, and the first man jerks back with a grunt, clutching his shoulder. The second man charges, and I duck just as his hand shoots out for me.

My bag slips from my shoulder as I twist, aiming a kick at his knee. He stumbles, but he’s fast, recovering before I can get another shot off.

He slams into me, and I hit the ground hard, the impact rattling through my bones. My gun skids out of reach, spinning across the pavement.

I lash out, my fist connecting with his jaw. Pain explodes in my knuckles, but I don’t stop. I claw, I kick, I do anything to create distance.

“Get off me!” I snarl, twisting beneath his weight.

The blare of the sirens fades into the background as the fight becomes my world. His grip is iron, pinning my arms, but I slam my head back, catching him in the nose. He curses, his hold loosening for a fraction of a second—just enough for me to slip free.

I scramble toward the gun, my fingers brushing the grip, when headlights flood the car park.

An SUV roars into the lot, the engine snarling like a beast. Relief washes over me, sharp and overwhelming, as Rafi jumps out of the car before it even stops.

“Tayana, get down!” Rafi shouts, his voice cutting through the chaos. I dive to the ground as the SUV screeches to a halt behind him. Doors fly open, and men file out, firing without hesitation at more men spilling out of the back door.

Rafi doesn’t stop as he barrels straight toward one of the men I was struggling against, who’s pushing himself to his feet. Theman is on all fours, steadying himself. Rafi is a whirlwind of fury and fists as he grabs the man by the hair, pulling his head back.

“Did you fucking touch her?” he roars, before he hits him with a brutal right hook, his movements precise and deadly. He pushes his gun into the man’s temple and shoots him at point blank range before he turns in my direction, his breath heaving.

“Tayana!” he calls, his eyes scanning for me.

“I’m here!”I shout, grabbing the gun and rising to my feet. I aim at another man advancing on Rafi and fire. The shot grazes his leg, and he stumbles, giving Rafi the opening he needs to kick the man in his face, knocking him to the ground. But the man doesn’t relent; he jumps back up to his feet, ready to tackle Rafi to the ground, which earns him a bullet through the chest by one of Rafi’s friends.

The car park is a battlefield, but within minutes, the only sounds are heavy breathing and the distant wail of approaching sirens.

Rafi’s eyes find mine, wild and blazing with emotion. He’s at my side in seconds, his hands gripping my shoulders.

“Are you hurt?”

I shake my head, still catching my breath. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

His jaw tightens, and he pulls me into his arms, holding me like he never wants to let go.

Rafi’s grip on me is firm as he leads me toward the SUV. “We have to get out of here, Tayana,” he says, his voice softer now, as if trying to appeal to a part of me that’s still... there. “Two attacks in one night is two attacks too many.”

“What?” I’m confused as I let him hustle me into the back of the car, now filled with men. Two in front, and one in the back. Rafi gives me the window seat and my door is barely closed before the car squeals noisily and flies out of the parking lot at breakneck speed.

I bite back a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “You brought the Russian mafia to my door, and now you’re rescuing me? You have no idea what you’ve unleashed, Rafi. No idea.”

He sits there, silent, and for a moment, I think he’s about to argue, but instead, he squares his shoulders and locks his jaw as he turns to the window, a deafening silence falling between us.

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