Soren Bianchi [+18]

19. Proud of You

AURORA DANIELS

♡♡♡♡♡

I couldn't believe that I was in this situation, standing there in front of Soren. My heart raced with a mix of nervousness and fear, but I was determined to push through it and conquer my fears by learning how to use a gun.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and my hands trembled as I held the gun as firmly as I could. Soren's voice, filled with warmth and reassurance, whispered into my ear, "Take a deep breath, Amore."

We were at Soren's private shooting range, a place exclusively reserved and perfectly tailored for him and his men, and now, me. It had all the necessary equipment - targets, demo guns, safety gear - but it felt different from any other shooting range. It was a place where I could face my fears with Soren by my side.

"There's no pressure here, just you and me," he cooed, trying his best to calm me down. His words helped ease my nerves, and I listened intently, trying to control my breathing.

"You're in control, Amore. Not the gun, but you," he assured me.

This time, I knew I was holding the gun to protect myself, and that meant more to me than anything. It was liberating and scary all at once.

Soren had been incredibly patient with me, understanding my fears and treating me with gentleness. He had been by my side every step of the way, guiding me through the basics, teaching me how to hold the gun, aim, and most importantly, how to overcome my fear. He believed that it was all about focus and confidence, and slowly but surely, I was starting to believe him too.

As I stood there, my hands trembling slightly, Soren's soothing voice walked me through the process once again. "Exhale slowly. Feel the weight of the gun in your hands. You are in control."

"If you feel like you don't want to continue, Amore, we can leave. This is entirely your choice," he reminded me, assuring me that I had the power to decide. I appreciated his understanding.

It wasn't easy facing a fear. It wasn't easy holding something that could take a life in the palm of your hand.

But I knew deep down that I owed it to myself to be strong. With a shallow breath, I mustered the courage to say, "I'm ready."

"Release the safety, Amore," he guided, placing noise-cancelling earmuffs over my head to drown out any distractions.

"Focus on the target."

"Hold the gun with both hands; it has a bit of kickback."

"Visualize."

His words resonated in my ear that wasn't covered, and I nodded, turning my attention to the target in front of me.

Soren had empowered me, and I needed to prove that his efforts weren't in vain. I needed to show myself that I was stronger than the 18-year-old who had lost everything.

As I pulled the trigger, my heart pounded in my chest, and the sound of the shot reverberated through the range. The room seemed to shake, and my hands grew warm from the firm grip on the gun. The pressure of the gun startled me.

It felt as if the whole world had collapsed around me, my eyes squeezed shut, and my face tensed with anticipation.

Soren's large hands gently cupped my face, and I slowly opened my eyes, tears blurring my vision. And there, in his expression, I saw adoration and pride and maybe something more, but my mind was too fogged to pay attention to anything but the metal in my grasp.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. The endearment caught me off guard, as he had never called me that before. But at that moment, I knew he meant it.