The Ultimate Betrayal

Chapter 3

Rihanna’s POV

Fuck...fuck...fuck...

I'm dead...I'm dead...I'M SO FUCKING DEAD!!

I pressed my back harder into the mirrored wall, trying to convince my lungs that breathing was still a legal activity. It was not going well. My chest felt tight, my hands were shaking, and my brain had officially left the building without filing a fucking resignation letter.

"I can’t believe this... I cant believe I'm going to die like this" I whispered to myself,  fear consuming every part of my body. 

“Hey,” Sean said behind me.

Just that. Hey? He did not even k ow the gravity of the situation we are in right now. 

Oh my god, gravity...

I wander how may feet above the air we are right now? Would we crash to our death? Will dad use poison gas like he used for other of his enemies?

"Rihanna...breathe... It's just an elevator malfunction" I heard Sean say from behind me again.

I didn’t answer because if I opened my mouth, I was going to either scream, cry, or confess to crimes I hadn’t even committed yet.

He moved closer anyway.

Of course he did.

Because men like Sean Davis did not believe in personal space or mercy.

“I need you to breathe properly,” he said, like this was a performance review and not my nervous system actively quitting its job.

“I am breathing,” I managed.

It came out slightly broken.

“That is not breathing. That is malfunctioning.”

I let out a laugh that sounded like it belonged to someone else. “Thank you for the medical diagnosis, Sir. Should I invoice you my bill or just collapse politely?”

I stared straight into his eyes as I spoke. 

Now that I was surely facing death beside him, i realized something, Sean Davis isn't handsome...he's ugly... yup! Breathtakingly,  dashingly...fuck! And I'm still going to fucking die!!! how could I still be thinking about things like that?

"Stop being stupid,  Rihanna.  You're about to die. Sean Davis is fucking ugly ogre and you need to think of a way to survive this!" I lectured myself silently.

“Rihanna,” Sean said again, and I genuinely needed the universe to explain why hearing my name in his voice sounded like a bad idea I was already halfway into.

“I am trying,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Try harder,” he replied, like I had chosen this moment to be emotionally inconvenient on purpose.

“I would love to, but I appear to be malfunctioning in real time,” I said, pressing my back harder into the mirrored wall some more, which was not helping.

It hasn't been up to five minutes since yhe elevator broke, but It felt like we had been stuck for hours. 

The elevator gave a small, ugly jerk, and I made a sound I was not proud of. Sean didn’t even react, he just kept staring from me to the elevator door, like he was checking up on both of us.

He didn’t even look like he was panicking at all. He just looked at the control panel like it had personally offended him.

I was still shaking in the corner of the elevator when it suddenly jerked again and completely stopped.

Then the doors opened, the bulky, muscled man eith a black mask that stood at the door was definitely not the maintenance people, because he had a gun pointed at both of us.

Sean shifted instantly, his body moved slightly in front of mine like he was...protecting me.

This fool!!! He was just making it easier for them to kill him!!

Absolutely stupid.

“Don’t move,” the gunman said.

Which was absolutely unnecessary, because my body had already forgotten how movement worked anyways.

My eyes moved without permission and landed on the gunman’s wrist.

The tattoo was small, half-hidden, but it was there in a way that made my brain go very, very quiet for a second.

A broken circle.

My chest tightened.

No.

That was not possible.I knew that tattoo.  Which meant I knew this person very very well.

My cousin.

He saw me at the same time I saw him.

And for half a second, I thought I was safe. He did a double take like he also did not expect me to be here.

“What's going on?” I said automatically, stepping forward before I could stop myself.

Sean’s hand shot out immediately, catching my arm and pulling me slightly back.

Because my cousin lifted the gun.

Not at Sean...at me...and fired.

The sound ripped through the elevator like it was trying to split the fucking world open.

My heart jumped from my chest!!

Sean moved instantly.

He shoved me down and sideways in one motion, the bullet hitting metal instead of where my head had been a second earlier.

My ears rang. Everything became too loud and too far away at the same time.

“Get behind me,” Sean snapped.

I tried to respond, but my body didn’t listen properly.

My cousin stepped forward again, calmly... in a way that made my stomach twist, like none of this was emotional for him anymore.

“You shouldn’t have come back, only to be weak and useless” he said.

I knew he wasn’t talking to Sean.

He was talking to me.

Because I understood, very suddenly, that this wasn’t confusion or mistaken identity or some dramatic misunderstanding.

This was intentional.

And I had spent my entire life thinking I was still part of something that apparently had already decided I was disposable.

Sean moved again, and I stopped thinking properly after that.

Everything became motion and sound and the feeling of being pulled through space by someone who had decided I was not allowed to die.

Sean pulled me backward behind the elevator control frame while my cousin fired again, missing by inches from my hand.

I should have been terrified.

But my brain was doing something else at the same time.

Because the man beside me was not panicking.

He was calculating...moving...blocking.

Protecting.

Like it was instinct. Like I even truly mattered.

Which made absolutely no sense in my life.

“Rihanna,” Sean said sharply as we turned a corner of the stairs.

I blinked, shaking my head to dispel the thoughts.

“What.”

“Stop staring at me like that.”

“I am not!!!"

Another gun shot hit the wall above us, but Sean didn’t flinch, whic was deeply unfair. Tears of pain and betrayal were running down my cheek.

He shifted position again, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward the exit.

I zoned out, fear crippling my mind and body, while Sean took over, completely pulling and pushing me to safety.

At some point, we were no longer inside the building.

At some point, air became real again.

At some point, I realized I was shaking so badly I couldn’t tell if I was still standing or just being held upright out of sheer stubbornness.

And then I felt warmth spreading across my left shoulder.

I looked down and saw blood pouring endlessly from a gunshot wound I did not realise I had.

“Oh,” I said, because my brain had clearly run out of useful vocabulary.

Sean’s expression changed immediately when he saw it, like I mattered enough for it to be urgent.

“You’re hit,” he said.

“Congratulations,” I replied weakly. “We are both experiencing new developments today.”

My knees almost gave out immediately.

Sean caught me again before I hit the ground.

Of course he did.

Because apparently that was his new hobby.

“Stay with me,” he said.

“I am with you,” I snapped automatically. “Unfortunately.”

In one movement,  he lifted me bridal stylelike I weighed nothing, carefully avoiding my wounded shoulder.

We reached a motorcycle parked near the exit.

It was beautiful... just like the one I had hidden in the garage of my house. It was big, and black. 

Unnecessarily aggressive looking.

Of course he had that.

Because why would he drive a normal car like a normal emotionally stable CEO.

He sat me on it carefully, like I was something that might break if he stopped paying attention for even a second.

And for the first time all night, his voice softened just slightly.

“Hold on.” he said to me as he also mounted the bike behind me, holding me still.

“I think I might be dying,” I replied.

“You’re not dying.”

“That is a bold assumption, Mr CEO... don't tell me what you think about my own body.”

I stared at him for a second, because my brain was still trying to process the fact that I had just been shot at by a cousin I used to fucking share snacks with.

But I wrapped my arms around him the best I could from my position in front anyway.

Not because I was okay.

But because apparently my life had officially stopped offering me alternative options. Who would have thought... I was actually on a bike with my boss... even though I was bleeding out and dying.