Chapter 185

In Chapter 184 of “Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth,” Gemma finds herself in a perilous situation as gunfire erupts around her. Mikhail, her companion, quickly pulls her behind a concrete column, shielding her from the chaos. The deafening sound of bullets and the acrid smell of gunpowder heighten her adrenaline, but Mikhail insists they must escape rather than warn their friends Zina and Jace, claiming they are the targets of the attack. Gemma’s confusion and fear are palpable as she struggles against Mikhail’s grip, desperate to protect those she cares about.
As they flee through the streets, the intensity of the moment escalates. Gemma is overwhelmed by the physical exertion and the looming threat of danger, her heart racing as they navigate narrow alleys and evade gunfire. Mikhail’s protective nature contrasts with the urgency of their escape, and when Gemma’s phone rings, it adds to the tension. Mikhail’s reaction to the call reveals the stakes of their situation, prompting them to flee even faster. The chaotic chase culminates in them jumping into a jeep, where Mikhail’s demeanor shifts from urgency to a more businesslike tone, suggesting that this kind of danger is part of their daily lives.
Gemma’s realization that the gunfire was staged to scare her off leads to a confrontation with Mikhail. She confronts him about orchestrating the attack, feeling a mix of anger and betrayal. Mikhail’s admission that he intended to frighten her away from being a “housekeeper” assigned by his father adds layers to their relationship. In a moment of emotional release, Gemma slaps Mikhail, a bold act that shocks everyone in the jeep. Her refusal to be part of his manipulative game signifies her strength and independence, despite the risks involved.
Mikhail’s reaction to the slap reveals his complex feelings toward Gemma. While he initially brushes it off, the sting of her anger resonates with him, leading to a moment of introspection. His men’s comments about Gemma not being like the others highlight her uniqueness and resilience. As Mikhail orders the driver to leave quickly, he grapples with the consequences of his actions and the unexpected respect he feels for Gemma. The chapter closes with Mikhail’s conflicted emotions, setting the stage for further developments in their tumultuous relationship.
**TITLE: Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane**
**Chapter 184**
**Gemma’s POV**
Mikhail yanks at my collar, pulling me swiftly behind a sturdy concrete column just as a hail of gunfire erupts around us, the sharp cracks of bullets slicing through the air and striking the walls where we had just been standing a heartbeat ago. The sound is deafening, a chaotic symphony of danger that sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
The concrete behind us splinters and crumbles, sending a cloud of dust swirling into the air, mingling with the acrid scent of gunpowder. My instincts scream at me to move toward the restaurant doors, to warn Zina and Jace, but before I can take a step, Mikhail’s grip tightens on my shoulders, slamming me back against the column with a force that is startling but not painful—just enough to rattle me.
“What—” I start to protest, confusion lacing my voice.
“Are you out of your mind? Or do you have a death wish?” His voice is a fierce whisper, hot breath brushing against my ear as he shields me with his body, a protective barrier against the chaos outside.
“But Zina and Jace are still inside!” I protest, my heart racing as I squirm against his hold. “We have to warn them—”
“You’re really something,” he replies, a dry laugh escaping his lips, but his tone quickly shifts to something more somber. “They’ll be fine. This isn’t about them. It’s me they’re shooting at.”
I open my mouth to argue once more, but before I can, a fresh volley of gunfire erupts, the sound so thunderous it rattles my very bones.
“Now run!” he barks, his hand clasping mine with an urgency that sends us sprinting into the fray. Bullets rip through the pavement behind us, the sound of shattering concrete echoing in my ears, each crack like a countdown to disaster, and my heart races wildly in my chest.
We round a corner, dart down a narrow loading ramp, and leap over a barricade, the world around us a blur of motion and fear. It feels as though we’ve been running for hours; my lungs are on fire, and my legs scream in protest, begging for respite.
We duck into a cramped alleyway, barely wide enough for our bodies to fit side by side. My heart thunders against my ribs, and I press myself against the wall, desperate to create some space between us, as if the proximity alone might shield me from the chaos outside.
I attempt to speak, but a strand of hair whips across my mouth, silencing me. Before I can push it away, Mikhail reaches up, brushing it aside with a gentle touch that surprises me amidst the chaos.
“You—” he begins, but my phone suddenly blares to life, the ringtone piercing the tense silence of the alley like a siren wailing in the night. I fumble to retrieve it from my pocket, my fingers trembling as I cut the call and switch it off, panic clawing at my insides.
But it’s already too late. I can see the tension ripple through Mikhail as his jaw clenches tight, his eyes darting to the street beyond.
“Dammit!”
Distant footsteps echo ominously, and he grabs my wrist again, urgency flooding his voice. “Move, now!”
With that, we burst from the alley just as another round of shots rings out, bullets slamming into trash bins and bricks behind us. We race through the streets, weaving around parked cars and vaulting over a low fence, my mind racing as I struggle to keep up with his pace.
I lose track of how many turns we take, each corner a desperate gamble for safety until we finally reach a clearing. A jeep slows to nearly a stop beside us, and Mikhail seizes the side rail, practically tossing me inside before jumping in after me.
The jeep lurches forward, and I slump back against the bench seat, lungs burning and throat parched from the exertion. Mikhail sits across from me, seemingly unfazed, while I feel as if I’ve just run a marathon. He pulls off his gloves, glancing at me with an expression that suggests I’m overreacting to our near brush with death.
“Look,” he says, his tone clipped and businesslike, “this is what life looks like for us on a daily basis. By accepting this job, you’re signing up for the same risks. If you’re scared, you can leave right now.”
His words hang in the air like a weight, straightforward yet laced with an underlying threat. He’s asking me to abandon everything after just twenty minutes of dodging bullets?
But then it hits me—the realization that none of the shots had actually aimed to hit us. Not a single bullet grazed our skin. More than two dozen rounds were fired, and yet we emerged unscathed.
A cold wave of understanding washes over me, trickling down my spine. “Those bullets…” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “They weren’t meant to hit us, were they?”
He doesn’t respond, but the silence that envelops us speaks volumes, and I lean forward, my heart pounding. “You orchestrated this, didn’t you? The entire attack was staged. It was your men, wasn’t it?”
The atmosphere in the jeep shifts, the tension palpable. The two guards riding with us visibly tense, one of them averting his gaze to the floor, and that’s all the confirmation I need.
“Unbelievable,” I breathe, a sharp laugh escaping me, tinged with incredulity. “You created all this drama, for what?”
Mikhail remains silent, and I grit my teeth, feeling a surge of anger. “I’m not leaving without a real answer, Voloshin.”
A beat of silence stretches between us before he finally exhales, his gaze fixed ahead. “It was supposed to scare you away—”
He hesitates, as if weighing his words. “How do you expect me to react to the ‘housekeeper’ my father assigned me? I thought if I made you think it was too dangerous, I could scare off any spies he wants to plant on me.”
For a moment, I’m rendered speechless, my mind racing to process his admission. Then, in a burst of emotion, I do the only thing my body allows—I slap him across the cheek.
The sound of the slap echoes in the confined space of the jeep, drawing shocked stares from the men around us as if I’ve just signed my own death warrant. But I don’t care.
“You are despicable, Mikhail! Stop the car, now!” I demand, shoving the door open before anyone can react, jumping down to the street from the slowing vehicle. The slam of the door behind me serves as my final word, a declaration of my refusal to be part of his twisted game.
**Mikhail’s POV**
“She actually slapped the boss—ab!” one of the men mutters under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper, as if mentioning it might earn him a bullet. The other man jabs him hard in the ribs, a warning look in his eyes.
Boss… maybe the blanks were too much?
Dimitri nods thoughtfully, “The girl looked quite pale when you first brought her in here, but after that…”
I ignore their chatter, pressing my fingers against my cheek, where her slap still stings—an unexpected reminder of her anger. I’ve been struck before, and never once did it elicit anything more than mild irritation.
But this one? This one hurt.
“She’s not like the others,” one of my men comments quietly, exchanging a glance with the driver. “Maybe using blanks was too much.”
I don’t respond immediately, my cheek throbbing, and within my chest, there’s a flicker of something I’m reluctant to name—respect? Amusement? Regret?
Whatever it is, I push it down, forcing my gaze forward, my voice cold and unyielding. “Drive.”
“Boss, we can still turn around and—”
“Drive fast!” I snap, cutting him off. “I don’t want to give her a chance to come back.”
The engine roars to life, and the jeep surges forward, my mind racing as I absentmindedly rub my cheek one last time, desperately trying to erase the memory of her fury.
As the dust settles and the echoes of chaos fade into the distance, Gemma stands alone on the street, her heart racing with a mix of anger and clarity. The adrenaline that once propelled her through the harrowing escape now gives way to a fierce determination. She realizes that Mikhail’s actions, while reckless and manipulative, have ignited a fire within her—a refusal to be a pawn in someone else’s game. Her slap, a bold declaration of her autonomy, reverberates in her mind as a moment of empowerment, a line drawn firmly in the sand. Though the weight of betrayal lingers, it also fuels her resolve to carve out her own path, free from the shadows of Mikhail’s machinations.
Meanwhile, Mikhail drives away, grappling with the unexpected sting of Gemma’s slap—a visceral reminder of her strength and defiance. The silence in the jeep is thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension, leaving him to confront the consequences of his choices. As he navigates the streets, he feels the flicker of respect for Gemma growing within him, challenging the carefully constructed walls he has built around his heart. For the first time, he questions whether his methods of control are truly effective or if they have only succeeded in pushing her further away. In the aftermath of their chaotic encounter, both are left to ponder the fragile balance between power and vulnerability, setting the stage for a confrontation that may redefine their relationship and their very selves.
**What to Expect in Next Chapter?**
In the next chapter of “Before Rain Touches Earth,” readers can expect the tension to escalate as Gemma grapples with the shocking revelation of Mikhail’s deception. Her anger has ignited a fierce determination within her, and she is no longer willing to be a pawn in his dangerous game. As she navigates the chaotic world Mikhail has thrust her into, the stakes will rise, forcing her to confront not only her feelings about him but also the precarious nature of their situation. Will she find the strength to stand her ground, or will the threats lurking in the shadows pull her back into Mikhail’s web of intrigue?
Simultaneously, Mikhail’s internal struggle will deepen as he wrestles with the consequences of his actions. The slap from Gemma has shaken him in ways he didn’t anticipate, and as he tries to maintain a façade of control, the cracks in his armor will begin to show. Readers should prepare for a gripping exploration of their complex relationship, where trust is tested, and unexpected alliances may form. As the danger intensifies, will Gemma and Mikhail find a way to unite against their common enemies, or will their differences drive them further apart? The next chapter promises to be a whirlwind of emotions, revelations, and high-stakes action that will leave readers on the edge of their seats.
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