Chapter 3
Scarlett
At exactly seven o'clock, I pushed through the doors of Gibsons Bar & Steakhouse.
I wore a blood-red silk dress—the color reminded me of what was about to happen. In my purse, the vial of clear liquid waited.
Nate was already there waiting for me.
He stood up, his face breaking into a smile that made my heart race.
Damn it, why does he have to smile like that?
"You look beautiful, Scarlett." He said softly, pulling out my chair.
As I sat down, my fingers instinctively gripped my purse tighter. "Thank you."
"I specifically requested a window table so you could see the city lights." He settled back into his seat, his eyes sparkling with warmth.
I gazed out at Chicago's nightscape, neon signs flickering against the darkness. "That's very thoughtful... most guys don't notice details like that."
"Oliver taught me to pay attention to details." He smiled. "Kids demand your full attention."
Damn it, why does he have to be so considerate? Focus, Scarlett. This is all an act.
The waiter brought over wine—my favorite brand. He even remembered that?
"Cabernet, right?" Nate said. "You mentioned it before."
My hand trembled slightly. This was the moment. While he wasn't looking, slip the poison into his glass...
But then he started talking.
"My parents died in the car accident when he was just a baby. I was only 22, had no clue how to raise a kid." Nate's gaze grew distant. "When he was one, I'd hear him crying every night. He'd call for 'mama,' and all I could do was hold him. I felt so helpless."
My hand froze over my purse. "That must have been incredibly hard..."
"But he saved me, gave me a reason to keep going." He looked at me with a sincerity I'd never seen before. "Family is everything, isn't it?"
No, he's lying. Killers don't have real feelings... but his eyes...
I secretly reached for the vial in my bag. Just as I was about to pull it out—
"Everyone get down! Empty your wallets and phones, now!"
Two masked men burst into the restaurant, waving guns. Screams erupted instantly as everyone dove under tables.
I froze.
But Nate didn't.
His reaction was lightning-fast. Almost the instant the gunmen appeared, he shielded me, pulling me behind him.
"Don't move. Follow my lead." He whispered in my ear, his voice calm and steady.
"What are you going to do?" I could feel his heartbeat—strong and steady.
"Protect you."
Three words. Simple but powerful.
What happened next was like something out of an action movie. Nate caught one of the gunmen off guard and took him down instantly. His movements were professional, precise, no wasted motion. The second gunman barely had time to react before Nate had disarmed him too.
The whole thing was over in under two minutes.
When faced with guns, his first instinct was to protect me...
Police arrived quickly and took the gunmen away. The restaurant manager kept apologizing, comping our meal, but I couldn't process any of it.
I just stared at Nate.
"Are you okay?" He took my hands, his eyes full of concern.
I nodded, but inside I was in complete turmoil. This man I was planning to kill had just saved my life.
Midnight. I stood alone in front of my apartment mirror.
The red dress was off, my makeup removed. I stared at my reflection—pale, confused, conflicted.
He saved my life tonight, and I almost killed him.
I walked to my dresser and picked up the small vial. The clear liquid caught the light, as if mocking my hesitation.
No, this is what he deserves. He owes my parents their lives.
But Nate's words echoed in my mind: "Family is everything."
The look in his eyes when he said that... that wasn't acting. No one could fake that kind of authenticity.
But... what if he really is innocent?
I shook my head hard. No, impossible. The police report was crystal clear: Executing Officer N. Blackwood. He pulled the trigger. He killed my parents.
But tonight, when he didn't hesitate to protect me...
My phone suddenly rang.
It was a message from Detective Marcus, who'd been consoling me as a friend for three years.
[How did it go? Remember what they did to your parents. Tomorrow's the three-year anniversary.]
The three-year anniversary.
In an instant, all the memories came flooding back. That rainy night when police kicked down our motel room door. Mom's screams, Dad's desperate eyes as he tried to protect us. Then came gunshots, blood splatter, and the two of us—Thommy and I—trembling uncontrollably as we hid in the closet.
The cop who pulled the trigger was Nate.
Right. I almost forgot. They died so horribly. I can't let a few sweet words fool me.
I gripped my phone tighter, feeling the fire reignite in my veins.
Tonight's tenderness, tonight's protection, tonight's everything—it was all coincidence. None of it changed the fact that he was a killer.
I picked up the vial of poison, cold fire burning in my eyes again.
"I won't hesitate next time, Nate Blackwood." I whispered to the night sky. "You saved me once, but you can't save yourself."
