Trust me Not | 18+ ✎

05 • covenant

c h a p t e r

05

covenant

♔

m y r a

"MYRA?"

Noah looked so surprised upon seeing me; however, the other men in the room had a thunderous expression on their faces as one of them shoved me in and closed the door.

My blood ran cold as the objects in front of the table finally registered in my head. There were guns, and guns and packets. White coloured packets.

Noah looked around the room at everyone before he moved towards me in a breath and rooted himself at my side, in front of me, making himself stand between them and us.

"She can't be here."

"She saw the exchange."

"We need to get rid of her."

"Kill her, Pierre."

I crouched further behind Noah as he blocked me from the view, "No one's touching her."

His voice was threatening and knew, but no one budged at that. I hadn't seen this version of Noah before, but something told me this was way bigger than it appeared.

The nearest man dressed in a suit tried reaching for me as Noah shoved me behind him further until I felt the hard wood on my behind.

"I said get back!"

I was going to be killed. It wasn't a feeling that scared me or even frightened me, but the fact that Noah was ready to go to lengths for me tugged at something in my heart. Realising there was a person in this world who would fight for me brewed something deep inside of me.

But the cost of my life wasn't that much. I sidestepped out of his reach, "It's fine." I told him.

It was an opportunity that god had presented to me. It saved me from the sin of killing myself or throwing myself in the face of fire. It was purely an opportunity that presented itself.

Maybe the call from Valeria had been a sign. The only regret I seemed to have was Lily had stormed off in rage.

"Smettila."

[ Italian. Stop it. ]

The baritone voice of the man seated on the plush chair carried through the wind a kind of authority that was clearly not in possession of Noah.

The men in the room stopped and turned to face Nicolás as he rested his eyes on me, the look of doom in them fixing me with a scrutiny that made me look down at my bare feet.

"Uscire."

[ Italian. Get out ]

A single word had the men watching him with a questioning look, but no one argued on it. They simply walked towards the table, picked up all the items, their guns and packets, and began to exit the room. One by one.