Pulling The Trigger

**Nia's point of view**

The next day, I made my way to Caspian's company.

I hardly stepped foot in this building, but whenever I did, I was always praised and looked up to with admiration. The trophy wife of one of the most successful men in the city. How surprised would they all be when they found out that I was actually the reason behind his success?

My mother left all her wealth to me when she died. That's the reason my stepfather hated me and sold me off like livestock at an auction.

That wealth, every single penny of it, was what Caspian used to climb the ladder to where he was now. His empire, his reputation, his success? All built on my money.

I walked through the lobby, my heels clicking against the floor. Employees nodded respectfully as I passed. Some whispered. Some smiled. They had no idea that the woman they were greeting would soon bring their CEO to his knees.

When I reached his office, I beamed a smile at his secretary, a young woman named Sarah who always looked at me with something like envy.

"Mrs. Blackwell, what a pleasant surprise! Mr. Blackwell didn't mention you were coming."

"He doesn't know," I replied sweetly. "He's out for a business meeting, isn't he?"

"Yes, he should be back in a few hours."

"Perfect. I wanted to leave him a surprise." I leaned in conspiratorially. "Anniversary plans, you know how it is."

She giggled, completely fooled. "Of course! Go right ahead."

I walked into his office, closed the door behind me, and let my smile drop. The space reeked of expensive cologne and arrogance. His desk was massive, made of dark wood that probably cost more than most people's cars. Everything here screamed success, and all of it was a lie.

I got down on my hands and knees and found a suitable spot under his huge desk to stick the bug.

My fingers worked quickly, pressing the tiny device into place where it would never be noticed.

Then I stood, smoothed down my dress, and walked out with the same pleasant smile I'd entered with.

Back home, I slipped into my study and locked the door. I poured myself coffee, though it tasted bitter on my tongue, and activated the listening device.

At first, there was nothing but the sound of shuffling papers and keyboard clicks. Then his phone rang.

"Hey, beautiful."

My stomach twisted. I knew instantly that it was Isla he was talking to. The tone of his voice, warm and affectionate in a way he hadn't spoken to me in months, made me want to throw my cup against the wall.

"I miss you already," Isla's voice came through, syrupy and fake. "When are you coming home?"

"Soon, baby. Just finishing up some contracts."

Baby. He called her baby. I gripped my cup tighter.

"I saw the most gorgeous bag today," she continued. "The new Valentino collection just dropped and there's this black leather one with gold hardware that would be perfect for the charity gala next month."

"How much?"

"Eight thousand."

I nearly choked. Eight thousand dollars. I thought about all the times I'd asked him for money for my own projects, for charity work I wanted to do, and he'd told me to budget better.

"I'll transfer it now."

"You're the best! God, I love you so much."

"I love you too. Listen, can you meet me tonight? I booked our usual suite at The Sterling."

"Room 47?"

"You know it. I'll be there by eight."

"I can't wait. I'll wear that thing you like."

They both laughed, the sound intimate and familiar. It turned my stomach.

If I hadn't seen the proof yesterday, if I hadn't stood in that room surrounded by her things, I wouldn't have believed this conversation was real. I would have convinced myself I was paranoid, that I was imagining things.

But I wasn't imagining anything. This was real. This betrayal, this mockery of our marriage, all of it was real.

After they hung up, I sat there for a long moment, staring at the recorder. The Sterling Hotel. Room 47. Eight o'clock.

That was my chance.

I spent the rest of the afternoon preparing. I retrieved the gun my mother had left for me from the safe, checking to make sure it was loaded.

I bought a voice changer from an electronics store, paying in cash.

I remembered all the tactics I was taught by my mother, who used to work as top security for a private firm before she married my father.

She didn't teach me things most mothers taught their daughters about cooking and sewing. She taught me about locks and security systems and how to handle a weapon.

"You never know when you'll need to protect yourself, Nia," she used to tell me. "Pretty girls with money are always targets."

Night came fast, the sun setting in streaks of orange and red that looked like blood in the sky.

I put on a black mask, wore a long dark wig that made me look nothing like myself, and packed everything I needed into my handbag. The gun, the documents Jenny had prepared, the voice changer, a small electronic lock pick I'd ordered online.

I took a cab to the hotel instead of driving my own car.

The Sterling was one of those boutique hotels that catered to wealthy people having affairs. Discreet, expensive and perfect for what Caspian and Isla had been doing behind my back for God knows how long.

I walked through the lobby like I belonged there, my head held high. Nobody stopped me or questioned me. I took the elevator to the fourth floor, my heart pounding harder with each floor that passed.

I could imagine what they were doing, tangled up in expensive sheets, touching each other with hands that had touched me. It angered me more and more with each step I took down that hallway.

As I got to the room, I brought out the lock pick and went to work on the electronic lock.

My hands were steady despite the rage burning through my veins. The device beeped softly, then the light turned green. It opened immediately and I walked in.

It was a suite, as expected. Luxury everywhere. Champagne on ice. Rose petals on the floor. How romantic.

I brought out the gun and the papers. Then I took a deep breath, activated the voice changer, and pushed open the bedroom door.

The moment I barged in, I pointed the gun at them.

They were both half naked and cuddled in the bed, her head on his chest, his arm around her shoulders.

For a second, just a second, I felt my heart shatter into a thousand pieces. But I stopped the pain from affecting me. I shoved it down deep where it couldn't reach me right now.

Isla screamed and tried to hide behind Caspian, who sat up quickly, raising his hands in surrender. His eyes were wide with fear, his face pale.

"What the fuck? Who are you?"

I walked closer, not setting my eyes off Caspian as I spoke through the voice changer.

"Shut up. Move away from her. Now."

He did as I ordered, sliding away from Isla, who was crying and shaking.

"What do you want? If it's money, I'll give you whatever you need. Just don't hurt us."

I brought out the papers and threw them on the bed along with a pen.

"Sign these. Every page that's marked."

He picked them up with trembling hands, trying to read in the dim light. "What is this?"

"It's none of your damn business what it is. You're going to sign it."

He hesitated, flipping through the pages. I could see him trying to think, trying to figure out what was happening.

"I can't just sign something without knowing what it is."

I didn't give him a chance to rethink. I aimed at the glass vase on the nightstand right beside Isla's head and pulled the trigger.

The sound was deafening in the enclosed space. The vase exploded into a thousand pieces, glass flying everywhere.

Isla screamed louder, covering her head with her hands. Caspian flinched so hard he nearly fell off the bed.

"Sign it," I repeated, my voice cold through the changer. Now he knew damn well that I wasn't joking.

His hands shook as he grabbed the pen. He didn't look at the contents this time. He just signed, page after page, his signature getting sloppier with each one. When he finished, he held them out to me.

I snatched them back, checking quickly to make sure every page was signed. They were. The transfer of funds. The divorce papers. Everything.

I should have left. It was only a matter of time before security came. But I couldn't leave them like this. I didn't want to. They'd caused me so much pain, so much humiliation. They deserved to feel even a fraction of what I'd felt.

So I aimed the gun at his knee and pulled the trigger.

The sound of his scream was the most satisfying thing I'd ever heard. He crumpled, clutching his leg, blood seeping between his fingers. Isla was screaming too, scrambling away from him.

I turned and ran.

Behind me, I could hear Isla yelling for help, hear Caspian moaning in pain. I didn't look back. I ran down the hallway as doors started opening, as people poked their heads out to see what the commotion was.

I could already feel men in suits with guns coming after me. Hotel security, probably armed, definitely trained.

The elevator would be suicide, so I headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

But they were too fast and they were closing in on me. I could hear their footsteps echoing in the stairwell, hear them shouting into radios.

I burst onto the next floor and ran to the closest door. My fingers fumbled with the lock pick, precious seconds ticking away as I worked.

Come on, come on, come on.

The light turned green. I shoved the door open, threw myself inside, and locked it from behind. I pressed my ear against the door, breathing hard, listening as the men ran past. Their footsteps faded down the hallway.

I sighed out in relief, closing my eyes for just a moment.

Then I pulled down my mask and wig, running my fingers through my sweaty hair.

"Who the fuck are you?"

My blood turned to ice. The voice came from behind me, deep and masculine and very, very angry.

I was screwed.