Vengeance in His Bed

Dorrent reached under the driver’s seat with fluid, practiced precision, his hand emerging with a handgun. The metallic clack of him racking the slide vibrated through the quiet interior of the sports car.

Jannah’s breath hitched sharply, her eyes widening in shock as she stared at the lethal weapon in his grip. The sight of the gun, cold and heavy, sent a sudden spike of panic straight through her chest.

"Stay in the car and do not move," Dorrent ordered, his baritone dropping into a low, uncompromising command. "It’s bulletproofed. Nothing is going to happen to you in here."

He reached for the door handle, his intent to step out into the ring of armed vehicles.

Instinctively, before her mind could even process the action, Jannah’s hand shot out. She grabbed his thick wrist, holding him back with all the frantic strength in her small body.

Dorrent stopped, turning his head to look down at her. His eyes met her trembling gaze, catching the unspoken, desperate pleading swimming in her wet irises. She looked so small, so intensely terrified of what was about to unfold outside that tinted glass.

A sudden, overwhelming wave of softness broke through Dorrent’s icy focus. He leaned across the center console, cupping the side of her face, and pressed a firm, warm kiss directly onto her smooth forehead.

"Don’t worry about me, little physician," he whispered against her skin, his thumb caressing her cheek. "I will be completely okay."

Jannah swallowed hard, her chest heaving as tears threatened to spill over her lashes. "I... I am not worried about you!" she blurted out defensively, her voice cracking under the emotional strain. "I just... I just don’t want to be left alone in this car with those men out there!"

Dorrent let out a low, smooth laugh, the rich sound vibrating through his chest despite the armed perimeter outside. "You truly are the most stubborn woman alive."

"How are you smiling under a situation like this?!" Jannah cried softly, her grip tightening on his wrist as she gestured frantically toward the high beams glaring through the windshield. "Can’t you see those fully armed men standing out there right now?!"

"They are nothing to me," Dorrent replied casually, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, dark confidence. "I will deal with them in a few minutes."

"And what if it turns out like last time?!" Jannah thrown back, her voice shaking as the horrific memory flashed through her mind—the cemetery, the barrage of bullets tearing through his flesh, blood spraying onto the gravel as he walked through a storm of lead just a week ago. "When you got shot a hundred times?! You are so unbelievably reckless with your own life!"

Dorrent’s lips curved into a slow, deeply fond smirk. He leaned in closer, his gaze locking onto her face. "If you truly care about my health that much, baby... then be a good girl, let go of me, and let me go outside so I can deal with these people."

Jannah’s grab on his wrist hardened into an absolute lock. She stared at him through a fresh veil of tears, the emotional conflict inside her reaching a chaotic, agonizing peak. She hated how much power he held over her, hated how his safety had somehow become tied to her own pounding heart, but she couldn’t hide the raw desperation bleeding from her soul.

"You had better ensure you come back into this car!" Jannah choked out, her voice trembling with intense emotion as she stared dead into his eyes. "If you care about your child at all... if you don’t want him or her to grow up without a father... you come back alive!"

Dorrent froze entirely.

The casual smirk vanished from his face. His frame went utterly still, his eyes dilating as he stared at her in disbelief. A long silence stretched between them before a breathtaking, radiant smile slowly broke across his handsome features.

"Are you for real right now?" Dorrent asked softly, a rare, genuine spark of joy lighting up his eyes. "You are actually pregnant?"

Jannah let out a bitter curse, her face flushing red through her tears. "Curse you, Dorrent! Aren’t you the one who keeps arrogantly claiming every single second that I am carrying your child?!"

Dorrent’s smile widened, overflowing with a profound, terrifying devotion. He slowly lowered his gaze, looking down at her flat stomach beneath the thin silk. He reached out, his palm gently resting over her abdomen for a brief second.

"I will be here for both of you," Dorrent delivered, his voice vibrating with an unshakeable promise. "No matter what happens... even if I have to come back as a ghost."

SMACK!

Jannah’s small hand flew forward, slapping his broad shoulder with a sharp, echoing crack. "Don’t you dare talk that way!" she sobbed out, her chest heaving wildly. "You bastard!"

Before Dorrent could offer a teasing reply, a rough, booming voice echoed from the outside, amplified by the heavy quiet of the road.

"Dorrent, you bastard! Step out of the car right now!"

Dorrent’s demeanor shifted in a fraction of a second. The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by a ruthless, predatory steel. Without another word, he opened the driver’s door, stepped out into the chilly night air, and slammed the door shut behind him, locking the shocked, trembling Jannah securely inside the bulletproof cabin.

Outside, the harsh glare of the cars beams illuminated the road. Over a dozen heavily armed men stood in a tight semicircle, their rifles raised and aimed dead at Dorrent’s chest.

Standing right at the center of the perimeter was Beron, his face twisted into a triumphant, ruthless scowl.

Dorrent stood tall in his thin tank top, his broad shoulders and thick, vein-lined arms completely exposed to the wind. He casually leaned back against the hood of his sports car, holding his handgun loosely at his side, looking entirely unbothered by the arsenal pointed at his heart.

"What an impressive ambush, Beron," Dorrent purred, his voice carrying a calm, mocking edge that echoed over the idling engines. "Wasn’t the storm of bullets your men threw at me at the cemetery enough for you? You brought more?" He tilted his head, a dark, lethal smirk touching his lips. "I’m afraid I won’t be taking any of your bullets today."

Beron sneered, his grip tightening on his weapon. "Stop talking so much nonsense, Grefo! Hand over the girl inside that car right now, and maybe I’ll let you leave here with your life!"

Dorrent raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with dangerous amusement. "What girl are you talking about? You mean my mated wife?"

"Just hand the girl over to end all of this in peace!" Beron barked sharply.

Dorrent let out a low, dark laugh that sounded entirely devoid of humor. "Are you out of your mind? There is not a chance in hell I am ever handing my mate over to a pathetic old fool like you."

Beron’s eyes flashed with venom. "If you won’t hand her over willingly, Dorrent, then I will simply end everything right here and now!"

Dorrent let out a short, dismissive scoff. "Besides... the girl won’t even be of any use to your grand plans anyway. She is already pregnant with my child."

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