Chapter 19

Dorian's POV

That night, as soon as we were alone in the hotel room, words became unnecessary as we rushed at each other. The tension and the raw emotions that had been simmering beneath my skin all burst free the moment I kissed her. Anna melted into me, her fingers threading through my hair as if afraid I would disappear.

I wasn’t sure if this was real or some cruel illusion, but I didn’t care. She was warm, solid, alive—and that was all that mattered.

We spent the night tangled together, whispering each other’s names and relearning the feel of one another’s bodies. Every touch was urgent, every kiss desperate, as if making up for lost time. And when exhaustion finally claimed us, I held her close, unwilling to let go even in sleep.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, casting golden patterns on the bed. Anna stirred beside me, her bare skin warm against mine. I watched her face for a moment, memorizing the peaceful rise and fall of her breathing, the way her dark lashes fanned against her cheeks.

When her eyes fluttered open, she smiled softly. “You’re still here,” she murmured.

I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

She sighed contentedly, stretching before curling into my side. “Good.”

Reluctantly, I left the bed to make breakfast. The suite had a small kitchenette, and I found eggs, bread, and coffee. It felt strangely domestic—standing there, cooking for Anna as she watched from the bed, wrapped in the sheets.

“Since when do you cook?” she teased as I set down two plates.

I smirked. “Since I realized that expensive hotels don’t always mean good room service.”

She laughed, the sound filling the space between us like music. For the first time in months, I felt something close to happiness.

But the moment couldn’t last forever. As we sipped our coffee, I set my mug down and met her gaze. “Tell me,” I said. “How are you still alive?”

Her smile faded. She exhaled slowly, setting her fork down. “It wasn’t easy.”

I leaned forward, listening intently as she spoke.

“The explosion—it should have killed me. It did kill me, in a way. I don’t remember much except fire, pain, and darkness. When I woke up, I was in some underground facility. A private hospital, but not the kind that operates legally.” She shuddered. “They had patched me up, but I was trapped. No one would tell me who they were or why they had saved me. Just that I was ‘valuable.’”

My fists clenched. “Who were they?”

“I still don’t know,” she admitted. “But I think they wanted to use me to get to you.”

My stomach twisted. It made sense. “How did you escape?”

She hesitated. “Someone helped me. A guard—I don’t know why, but he let me go. I was smuggled out of the country and told to lay low. I was planning to find you, but it looks like you found me first.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Jesus, Anna…”

She reached for my hand, squeezing it. “I’m here now, Dorian. That’s all that matters.”

I exhaled, lifting her fingers to my lips. “No. What matters is that we make them pay.”

That moment the lights in the room abruptly went out and a cold dread settled in my chest. In the past months, I could instinctively sense danger and apparently Anna could too because she stiffened beside me.

“Dorian…” Her voice was barely a whisper.

I was already moving. I grabbed my phone from the table and dialed one of the men stationed outside. The call connected, and I barely had time to speak before I heard his ragged breathing on the other end.

“Talk to me,” I demanded.

A beat of silence. Then—

Bang.

A gunshot.

The line went dead.

Anna gasped, scrambling out of her chair. My pulse pounded in my ears as I shoved my phone into my pocket. This wasn’t a power outage. It was an attack.

“We have to go,” I said, grabbing her wrist.

A loud thud came from the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Assassins were coming for us.

Anna’s eyes darted to the hotel door. “We won’t make it through the front.”

I scanned the room, mind racing. The window. It was our only way out.

I rushed over, yanking back the curtains. The glass reflected the city lights outside—Berlin stretched beneath us, a dizzying drop from the sixth floor. Not ideal, but it was better than staying here and waiting to be slaughtered.

Anna was already beside me, her breathing shallow. “Do it.”

I grabbed the nearest chair and swung it hard against the window. The first hit barely cracked it. The second sent shards exploding outward, the wind howling into the room.

“Come on.” I took her hand and helped her onto the ledge.

The alley below was empty, save for a fire escape a few feet away. If we could jump, we might have a chance.

Anna glanced back as shouts erupted from the hallway. “They’re coming!”

I climbed onto the ledge first. “You jump right after me.”

She nodded.

I took a deep breath and pushed off, my feet hitting the fire escape with a painful clang. My hands gripped the rusted railing as the entire structure groaned beneath my weight.

I turned just in time to see Anna jump. I reached up, catching her arm as she landed hard against me. We nearly lost our balance, but I steadied her, pulling her against my chest.

“We have to move,” I urged.

Gunfire erupted from above. Bullets shattered what remained of the window, sending glass raining down around us. The assassins had found us.

I grabbed Anna’s hand and started down the fire escape. The metal groaned under our weight, but we moved fast, our breaths sharp in the freezing air.

When we reached the bottom, I pulled her into the dark parts of the alley.

“We need to disappear,” I murmured. “Now.”

Anna’s eyes met mine and she nodded bravely despite the fear I saw in her eyes.

Then, together, we ran.