chapter 4 Under her fathers command

When I opened my eyes again, the fire was down to glowing embers.

For a second, I didn’t remember where I was. Then the smell of smoke and pine snapped me back. The cabin. The attack. Cole.

Only… he wasn’t there.

“Cole?” My voice came out hoarse, too loud in the silence.

No answer.

The armchair was empty. The gun that had been holstered on his belt was gone, too. My heart gave a nervous thump.

I sat up, pushing the blanket off. The room felt colder now, emptier. Outside, wind whispered through the trees, rattling a loose shutter. The clock on the wall said it was after midnight.

“Great,” I muttered. “He rescues me just to abandon me in a murder movie.”

I stood, my bare feet touching the rough wood floor. Every sound I made seemed to echo.

“Cole?” I tried again, quieter this time.

Still nothing.

I spotted his jacket hanging near the door and reached for it, slipping it around my shoulders. It was way too big, smelled faintly like smoke and something else—like danger, maybe.

I checked the window. The forest outside was pitch black, except for the pale smear of moonlight on the wet ground. No movement. No headlights.

Maybe he went to check the perimeter. Maybe he was hunting more deer with his charm and his gun.

Still, a heavy unease crawled under my skin.

I found a flashlight near the fireplace and clicked it on. The beam cut through the dark in a weak cone of light. The door creaked when I pushed it open.

“Cole, this isn’t funny,” I said, stepping outside.

The night air slapped me—cold, sharp, alive with the hum of crickets and wind. Somewhere far off, an owl hooted. I turned the flashlight toward the trees.

Something glinted.

A faint metallic flash, maybe twenty yards away.

“Cole?” I called again. “If that’s you, just say something before I—”

A branch snapped.

I froze.

The flashlight flickered. For one terrible heartbeat, everything went black. I hit the side of it with my palm until it came back to life, but by then I could swear I saw movement between the trees—a shape, low and fast.

“Okay,” I whispered. “That’s not a deer.”

My pulse hammered so loud it drowned out everything else. I stepped backward slowly, keeping the light trained on the trees.

Then, out of nowhere, a hand clamped around my wrist.

I screamed, twisting hard, but a voice hissed, “Quiet!”

It was Cole.

He pulled me close enough that I could see his face in the flashlight beam—dirty, scratched, but steady. “You trying to get yourself killed?”

“You disappeared!” I hissed back. “What was I supposed to think?”

“That I was working.”

“Working on what, giving me a heart attack?”

He glanced past me into the woods, all business again. “Someone was here.”

My breath caught. “Here? As in—?”

“Footprints by the stream. Two sets. Fresh.”

I swallowed hard. “They found us, didn’t they?”

He didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

He grabbed my hand, firm but not rough. “We move. Now.”

“Where?”

“There’s a trail north. If we’re lucky, it leads to an old ranger station.”

“If we’re not lucky?”

“Then we find out who they sent to finish the job.”

Before I could respond, the faint crunch of footsteps echoed through the trees—closer this time.

Cole pushed me behind him, gun drawn, his eyes narrowing toward the dark. “Stay quiet,” he whispered.

The footsteps stopped. The night held its breath.

Then a single voice floated through the air, distorted by distance but unmistakably human.

“Miss Blake,” it called softly. “Your father sent us.”

My blood went cold.

Cole’s grip on his gun tightened. “Don’t move,” he murmured.

I whispered back, “That sounded friendly.”

“It’s not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because your father doesn’t send men who wear combat boots and use silencers.”

Another voice joined the first, sharper this time. “Search the perimeter. She has to be close.”

Cole’s eyes met mine, steel and fire all at once. “Run,” he said.

“What about you?”

“I’ll catch up. Go!”

Before I could argue, he shoved me toward the back of the cabin. I stumbled once, then ran, crashing through the brush, heart slamming against my ribs. Behind me, I heard a gunshot—then another.

The forest exploded into chaos.

I didn’t look back.

Not until the third shot ripped through the air, followed by silence.

And in that silence, one horrible thought struck me:

What if Cole Maddox—the man who saved me—wasn’t getting back up this time?

When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed. Again.

Bright lights stabbed through my eyelids, and the smell of antiseptic filled my nose. Machines beeped somewhere nearby, annoyingly cheerful for people who almost died.

For a moment, I didn’t remember how I got there—just flashes of running, gunshots, and then nothing but darkness.

“Easy,” a nurse’s voice said softly. “You’re safe now.”

I blinked up at her, groggy. “Safe? Define safe.”

“You’re at St. Helena’s. Your father’s on his way.”

Oh, great. Just what I needed.

The door burst open before I could ask anything else, and in strode Henry Blake—the man who could buy half the city and still make time to lecture me about dinner etiquette. His suit was perfect, his expression thunderous.

“Ariana.”

“Hi, Dad.” My voice was scratchy, but I forced a smile. “Miss me?”

He didn’t return it. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”

“Me? I was the one being shot at!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You should have been under tighter security. I trusted Sam—” His voice broke off, just for a second, before hardening again. “Cole Maddox found you. He saved your life.”

“I noticed,” I said dryly.

“Then you’ll understand why I’ve made certain arrangements.”

That tone—cold, decisive, corporate—never meant anything good. “Arrangements?”

Before he could answer, the door opened again. And there he was.

Cole Maddox.

He looked the same as before—black shirt, calm eyes, that faint scar along his jaw—but there was something different now. Cleaner, colder. Like he’d swapped the wild night for a uniform of obedience.

He nodded once to my father. “Mr. Blake.”

“Cole,” my father said, his voice approving. “You’ve been briefed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Then we’re agreed.”

“Agreed on what?” I demanded.

My father turned to me like I was a stubborn intern in one of his meetings. “Cole will be your personal security detail from now on. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

I stared. “You’re joking.”

“Not even slightly.”

I threw the blanket off and sat up. “You can’t just assign me a bodyguard like I’m some sort of VIP prisoner!”

“You almost died, Ariana.”

“Because someone tried to kill me, not because I went for a walk without permission!”

“You don’t understand the gravity of this situation,” he snapped. “The attack was targeted. They knew your route, your schedule—everything. Until we find who’s behind it, you don’t go anywhere without protection.”

“Protection or surveillance?” I shot back.

His jaw tightened. “This isn’t up for debate.”

I looked at Cole. “And you’re okay with this?”

He held my gaze evenly. “I follow orders.”

“That’s convenient,” I muttered. “Guess that makes one of us.”

My father ignored me. “Cole, she can be… difficult. Don’t let her talk you out of doing your job.”

Cole’s mouth twitched, but his tone stayed neutral. “Understood.”

“Dad!”

Henry Blake leaned over the bed, lowering his voice. “Ariana, I’m not doing this to control you. I’m doing it to keep you alive. Until the threat is neutralized, you’ll cooperate. That’s final.”

And just like that, he turned and walked out—no room for argument, as usual.

The door closed behind him, leaving silence in his wake.

I flopped back against the pillows with a groan. “Unbelievable.”

Cole stood at the foot of my bed, hands behind his back like some sort of military statue.

“You can stop standing at attention,” I said. “I’m not the Queen.”

“Force of habit,” he replied.

“Well, unlearn it. You’re making me nervous.”

“Noted.”

He pulled a chair over and sat down, still infuriatingly calm. “How’s the head?”

“Still attached. Thanks for asking.”

“You were lucky.”

“I’m getting tired of hearing that word.”

He didn’t smile. “Luck doesn’t last forever.”

I studied him. “You really plan to follow me around all day? What, stand outside my bathroom door too?”

“If that’s where the threat is.”

“Charming.”