I Married My Ex's Billionaire Father-Chapter 289: You’re Going To Be Living Here

The silence that followed the screech of tires was heavier than the gunfire itself. For a long, agonizing minute, the only sound in the parking lot was the ticking of cooling metal and Lyse’s ragged, uneven breathing. The concrete of the structural pole felt cold against her side, but the heat radiating from Levi who was still shielding her body with his own was overwhelming.

"Are you okay?" Levi asked, his voice low and tight with a controlled sort of panic. He didn’t move his arms; he kept her pinned in the safety of the shadow.

"Yes, I’m fine," Lyse gasped, her voice trembling as the adrenaline began to ebb, replaced by a cold, visceral terror. "What about you? What was that? Levi, what just happened?"

Levi didn’t answer immediately. He slowly peeled himself away from her, his eyes scanning the perimeter of the lot with a predatory intensity. He reached into his jacket, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number with steady fingers.

"Track my location and come to me," he said into the receiver, his voice like flint. "Make sure you come with a couple of bodyguards. Heavy armor. Now." He ended the call without waiting for a response and tucked the phone back away.

"We will have to stay here until Ethan comes," Levi said, his gaze never resting. He looked around as if he were watching to see if the gunmen would return to finish the job, his body coiled like a spring.

Lyse lay quietly against the concrete, her heart beating so rapidly she feared it might burst through her ribs. She tried to rationalize what had just happened, but the logic was slippery. She had actually been shot at. Real bullets. If not for Levi’s quick thinking and almost supernatural reflexes, she knew with a sickening certainty that she would be lying on the asphalt right now. In her state of total exhaustion, she wouldn’t have even heard the car approaching. The thought made a violent shiver race down her spine.

Levi noticed the tremor. Without a word, he wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her into the crook of his chest. He pressed his lips softly against her forehead, a gesture so tender and familiar it almost made her cry. Despite her lingering annoyance at seeing him, despite the lies and the secrets, she was flooded with a wave of relief that he was there. In this moment of literal life and death, she felt protected.

But the questions began to swirl in the dark. Why had they been shot at? Who was shooting at them? Specifically, who was the target?

’It has to be Levi,’ she thought, her mind racing. ’Probably one of his competitors or one of those deranged women that he dealt with. But also, why was that Honey trying to give me a ride? Could she have been one of Levi’s lovers? Did she mean me harm, or was she trying to save me from the shooters?’ The layers of deception felt like a physical weight pressing on her chest.

"Mr. Van Doren, where are you?"

The voice of Ethan, Levi’s head of security, cut through the quiet of the parking lot like a beacon.

"Here," Levi called out. He stood up, but he didn’t let go of Lyse. He helped her to her feet, his hands lingering on her waist to steady her. He looked her over one more time, his eyes searching for any missed injury or drop of blood, before turning to Ethan.

Ethan arrived with two men in dark, understated suits trailing behind him. They moved with the silent efficiency of professionals. Levi turned his head to look at his own car, which sat a few yards away. The windows were shattered, and the sleek black paint was now riddled with jagged bullet holes.

"Ethan, get someone on this. I need to know who is responsible. I want the ballistics, the traffic cams, everything," Levi said, his voice cold.

He had a strong suspicion about who was responsible for this, Ophelia’s reach was long, and her desperation was growing but he couldn’t voice those suspicions to Ethan yet, not with Lyse standing right there. He would let the investigation proceed, even though he was almost certain his gut was right.

He held Lyse close, his arm draped protectively over her shoulders, and led her away from the carnage. The bodyguards took the lead, forming a human shield as they moved toward a secondary, armored vehicle. Levi helped a no longer resisting Lyse into the backseat. She was too drained to fight him, too terrified to care where they were going as long as it was away from the smell of gunpowder.

The drive was a blur of streetlights and silence. Within a short while, they were pulling through the heavy iron gates of the Van Doren estate. Lyse was in a state of shock, her mind drifting in a dissociative fog. She failed to even register that she was back in the house she had shared with Levi, the house she had vowed never to enter again.

Even when the housekeeper met them at the door, her eyes widening as she took in Lyse’s disheveled state and greeted her with a shocked, "Oh, Mrs. Van Doren, welcome home," Lyse didn’t retort. Usually, she would have corrected the woman instantly, reminding her that she was no longer a Van Doren, but tonight, the words wouldn’t come.

She allowed Levi to lead her up the grand staircase to the master suite. The room was exactly as she remembered it, yet subtly different. Levi moved with a quiet purpose, helping her out of her torn, soot-stained clothes and into a pair of soft silk pajamas. Lyse was so numb she didn’t even comment on the fact that the pajamas were brand new, in her favorite shade of cream, and fit her perfectly. Nor did she notice the walk-in closet behind him, which was now filled with a curated selection of clothes in her exact style and size, as if he had been expecting her return since the day she left.

She collapsed into the massive bed, the high-thread-count sheets feeling like a cloud against her battered body. She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep before her head even hit the pillow.

The next morning, Lyse woke with a start. The sunlight was streaming through the heavy velvet curtains, and for a moment, she was utterly confused about where she was. The scent of the room, sandalwood and expensive linen hit her first. Then the memory of the bullets.

She sat up, the realization of her location hitting her like a physical blow. She was in the Van Doren master suite. She was in his bed.

She was about to storm out of the bed, her anger finally bubbling back to the surface, ready to find Levi so he could have a piece of her mind about kidnapping her under the guise of safety. But before she could even swing her legs over the side, the door opened.

Levi walked in, dressed in a crisp white shirt, looking as if the previous night’s assassination attempt had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He carried a tray with coffee and toast.

"Why am I here?" Lyse screeched, her voice cracking with indignation. "You should have just taken me home after! You had no right to bring me back to this house."

Levi set the tray down on the nightstand and looked at her. He was remarkably calm, his expression unreadable, which only served to make Lyse’s eyes narrow further into a glare.

"What was the point of taking you back to your apartment?" Levi asked calmly, his voice steady and brook no argument. "It’s not safe there. It was never safe there."

"I don’t care! I have a life, Levi! I have a studio, I have..."

"You have a target on your back," Levi interrupted. He stepped closer to the bed, his presence filling the room. "The people who did that last night aren’t going to stop because you’ve changed locations. Here, I have a security detail that can actually protect you."

"I’m leaving," she said, though she made no move to get up.

"No, you aren’t," Levi said. It wasn’t a threat; it was a simple statement of fact. "You are going to be living here from now on."