Reign Villa:
~ Private Indoor Shooting Range ~. *Late Afternoon*
The air inside the shooting range is cold, metallic, and silent except for the soft hum of overhead lights. Rows of weapons—pistols, rifles, modified prototypes—are mounted on the walls with exact precision. It's sterile. Controlled. Just like everything Lucian owns.
Ivy stands in the middle of the range, her arms folded over a black training tee, baggy cargo pants tucked into boots. Her expression is unreadable, but her eyes flicker with unease.
"I told you," she says, staring at the wall of firearms. "I don't do guns."
Lucian stands beside her, sleeves rolled, his stance casual but sharp. "And I told you—you'll learn. The next phase of this war won't be fought with code alone."
From the back corner, Adrian lounges against a crate, tossing a protein bar in the air. "She's got knives, fists, and ninja moves. Let her be, big bro."
Lucian ignores him and walks toward the counter. He selects a sleek matte-black Glock 19 and returns to her.
"Lightweight. Low recoil. Reliable." He holds it out, grip first.
Ivy takes it hesitantly, like it might explode in her hands. "I know how to take them apart. I just don't—pull triggers."
"Then start now," Lucian says simply.
He moves behind her—not close enough to touch—but enough for her to feel the gravity of his presence. "Feet shoulder-width apart. Elbows loose, not locked. Breathe from your chest. Align your sight. Don't blink."
She lines up the pistol, inhales slowly, exhales.
Bang.
The shot veers right, missing the paper silhouette entirely.
Adrian claps slowly. "You just shot my imaginary soul."
Lucian remains silent. Ivy's jaw tightens. She reloads without a word and raises the weapon again.
"Focus," Lucian murmurs.
Bang.
It hits the outer ring.
She reloads.
Bang.
Closer.
Her face tightens—something shifts behind her eyes. A memory.
*FLASHBACK*:
A long hallway. A hospital. Ivy, barely sixteen, gripping her younger brother's frail wrist, dragging him toward the emergency exit. Black boots thunder behind them. Then a gun—cold, aimed at her head. She froze. Her brother screamed.
Blackwood's voice rang out: "You disobey me again, I'll put a bullet in him."
*Back to Present*:
Ivy exhales sharply.
Bang.
Dead center.
Adrian stands upright. "No way—first-timer luck?"
Bang. Another perfect shot.
Lucian watches, unreadable. "Again."
Ivy fires, not missing.
Finally, she lowers the gun. Her fingers tremble, but she sets it down deliberately. "I hate them," she mutters. "But I won't freeze again."
Lucian steps closer, nods once. "Then you're halfway there."
Adrian walks up beside them. "Okay, okay, now teach me that magic. I want to impress girls with my aim."
Ivy gives him the smallest smirk. "Start by standing still without whining."
Lucian watches the two of them banter—Adrian full of sunshine, Ivy a storm barely held back. And yet, something in her had settled. She wasn't just a hacker anymore. She was transforming into a soldier
*Reign Villa :
~Private Shooting Range
~An Hour Later*
The atmosphere in the range has changed.
Lucian switches out the Glock for a more advanced model—a heavier SIG Sauer P226. Its weight alone could intimidate an average handler, and Ivy isn't average—but this is new for her.
"This isn't like before," Lucian says, checking the chamber before handing it to her. "More power. Less forgiveness."
Ivy takes the gun. It's heavier than the Glock—her arms instinctively tense from the extra force.
Lucian steps back, arms folded, analyzing her stance. "Widen your feet. Relax your shoulders."
She tries, adjusting, but it's off. The first shot fires—jerks high and far off-target.
She grits her teeth. "Damn."
Lucian walks forward silently and steps behind her. "You're compensating for recoil before it hits. Don't."
He gently places one hand around her waist, the other lightly on her forearm, steadying the angle. Ivy stiffens.
His voice lowers, calm, precise. "Trust your center. Let the weapon become an extension of your arm."
But Ivy can't focus.
His scent—clean with a hint of cedar—his presence, the warmth of his palm at her waist… it all blurs her edges.
Her heartbeat skips.
"Try again," he says, still unaware of her internal storm.
She raises the gun—but instead of aiming, her eyes slide up slightly, catching the edge of his jaw, the curve of his lashes.
Click.
She's forgotten to pull the trigger.
From the far side of the range, Adrian bursts out laughing. "Is this target practice or a romance novel?"
Lucian steps back immediately, face expressionless—but his eyes flicker with something unreadable.
Ivy clears her throat, eyes back on the gun, cheeks heating despite herself. "Shut up, Adrian."
Adrian grins, walking closer with a dramatic flourish. "I'm just saying. Bro, maybe switch places with me—your presence is clearly... *distracting*."
Lucian ignores him. "Again," he says to Ivy, more sternly this time—but there's a softness just underneath.
This time, she breathes deeply, steadies her focus—not on his hands, or his scent, or his voice—but on the target.
Bang.
A clean shot. Not perfect, but close.
Lucian nods. "Better."
Adrian mock clutches his chest. "So proud of you two. So... *electric* in here."
Ivy rolls her eyes. But she doesn't deny it.
First 20th chapter so happy thank u all for ur support 🥰🥰♥️♥️