The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 295

Chapter 295

Aria’s POV

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Devon’s eyes turned razor–sharp with focus. His hand found mine briefly, squeezing once before he released it and crossed the suite with purposeful strides. I watched as he approached what appeared to be an ordinary wall panel and pressed his palm against it. The panel slid open silently, revealing a hidden safe.

“You knew this would happen,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper as he entered a code and retrieved a titanium case from within.

Devon didn’t respond immediately. He placed the case on the coffee table and flipped it open, revealing an array of compact handguns

and what looked like high–tech tracking devices. “I never enter a battlefield without an exit strategy,” he finally said, selecting two guns

and checking their chambers with practiced efficiency.

“You knew there would be danger and you still brought me here?” The accusation in my voice was unmistakable, though it was undercut

by the tremor of fear I couldn’t quite control.

Devon looked up at me, his gray eyes unreadable. “I never said this was a vacation, Aria.” He held out a small, lightweight pistol to me.

“Take it.”

I stared at the gun, my hand frozen in midair. “I’ve never… I don’t know how to use this.”

Devon moved behind me, his chest pressed against my back as he guided the weapon into my hand. “Safety off, like this,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. His hands enveloped mine, positioning my fingers. “Aim, exhale, then squeeze the trigger. Not pull-

squeeze.”

The weight of the gun felt foreign and dangerous, but Devon’s proximity sent an inappropriate wave of heat through my body. My breathing quickened, and it wasn’t entirely from fear.

“Remember,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “if someone comes through that door who isn’t me or Roman, don’t hesitate.”

Before I could respond, the suite door crashed open again. Roman stumbled in, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. ‘Sir, they’ve

breached the security perimeter. Two men heading=”

His warning was cut short as two armed men burst into the room behind him. Devon reacted instantly, pulling me down behind a plush sofa as bullets splintered the wooden paneling where we’d been standing seconds before.

“Stay down!” Devon commanded, returning fire with precision.

My heart hammered against my ribs, each breath painful in my constricted chest. The smell of gunpowder filled the air, acrid and terrifying. I peered over the edge of the sofa, my hands shaking violently as I raised the gun Devon had given me.

One of the intruders moved toward our position, weapon raised. Devon was occupied with the other attacker, his attention diverted.

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16:57 Wed, Jan 7

Chapter 295

“Steady your wrist,‘ Devon called to me without looking, somehow aware of my movement. “Exhale, then squeeze.”

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I tried to follow his instructions, fighting against the violent trembling in my limbs. I exhaled slowly and pulled the trigger. The recoil

jolted through my arms, and the bullet grazed the intruder’s shoulder. He staggered but didn’t fall. Devon fired immediately after, his shot

finding its mark with deadly accuracy. The man collapsed, motionless.

The sudden silence was almost as shocking as the gunfire had been. My ears rang, and I realized I was gasping for air.

“Breathe, Devon said, his hand briefly touching my shoulder. “You’re not dying tonight.” Strangely, his blunt assurance calmed me more

than any gentle platitude could have.

Roman had subdued the other attacker, who now lay unconscious near the door. Devon moved swiftly to the hidden safe again, retrieving

more ammunition and what looked like communication devices.

“There are more coming,” he said, handing a gun to Roman and tucking another into an ankle holster. He checked his own weapon with fluid motions that spoke of unsettling familiarity. “The quantum chip prototype is what they’re after. Connor’s using Hamilton’s men as

muscle.”

I struggled to process what was happening, my mind still reeling from having just fired a gun at another human being. “Shouldn’t we call

the police or coast guard or-”

“We’re in international waters,” Devon interrupted. “And Hamilton owns the local authorities anyway.” He turned to Roman. “Secure the northeast corridor and activate Protocol Sigma. I’ll handle the rest.”

Roman nodded and headed for the door, but paused at Devon’s next words.

“And Roman-” Devon’s voice hardened, “—if anything happens to her, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

As Roman left, Devon turned to me. His face was a mask of cold determination, but his eyes betrayed something else—concern, perhaps even fear. Not for himself, I realized with a jolt, but for me.

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