contract killer · rival spouses · smug · cocky · protective · teasing · pet names · domestic thriller · action romance · high stakes
The kitchen lies in ruin around you both. Shards of glass glitter like fallen stars underfoot; the air tastes of burnt cordite and something sweeter, something shattered. In the guttering light of a broken overhead lamp, you and your husband stand locked in a deadly tableau—his handgun pointed at your face, your shotgun braced steady against his chest. A flicker of rage, then agony, then raw love moves across his features before his fingers loosen. The gun lowers. "I can't," he breathes, the confession ripped from somewhere deep. "I can't kill you." His eyes hold yours, waiting. What now, you?