Page 183 of This Life of Mine

Her eyes flick to me and widen a fraction.

“Well,” she says lightly, almost amused. “That was fast. How inconvenient.”

She really believed the two men would hold me.

I take one slow step forward. The gun twitches and she shoots.

I quickly move behind a wall.

“Don’t,” she warns. “One more step and I blow her brains out. I don’t have to aim well to do just that.”

I step out. Raise my hands to appear compliant.

“Alright,” I say, leaning against the kitchen doorway.

Her eyes narrow.

I can hear my pulse now—pounding and present. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know Reese is already moving. Calling it in. Lighting up every channel he has. I need time.

“You really didn’t think this through,” I say, calm and controlled. “You pull that trigger, and this gets very messy.”

She laughs softly. “I’ll be out of here shortly after I make her death look like a suicide. Or maybe a lovers’ quarrel. Now that you’re still in the picture.”

“You won’t get that far,” I counter.

Her grip tightens.

“You don’t scare me,” she says. “You’re not what I planned for, but you’re not a problem I can’t resolve. I can easily pay someone to fix this.”

“Whatdidyou plan for?“ I ask.

She studies me, head tilting. “I thought you were some muscled idiot she was fucking. No substance. No consequence. Cole tells me she likes the all-brawn, no-brains men she meets at the gym.”

Lina stiffens at the words, but I keep my eyes pinned to Elinor.

“I underestimated you,” she continues. “That’s on me.”

“Yes,” I say flatly. “You did.”

I shift my weight subtly—nothing obvious or threatening. Just enough to be ready.

Every fiber of my being wants to rip this woman apart, but I have to stay calm for Lina.

“You kill her,” I say, voice lethal in its calm, “and every single thing you’ve done becomes known. Virginia. Your husband. The money. The contract. Everything.”

Her jaw clenches.

“You don’t have proof,” she snaps.

I smile, slow and humorless. “If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be holding that gun like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.”

Her eyes flick toward the door behind me. Toward the last shred of hope she has left.

I let the silence stretch for a moment. Then I crush it.

“If you’re waiting for backup,” I state, my voice low, “they’re not coming.”

Fear flashes across her face.