Chapter 10
The roar of his weapon was deafening in the enclosed space. The first mercenary collapsed backward, his chest armor shattered by the armor-piercing rounds. The second man spun wildly, his weapon firing blindly into the ceiling before he hit the marble floor.
The third assassin panicked, scrambling toward the heavy mahogany doors to escape the absolute slaughter.
"Are you running so soon?" Marcus asked, rising to his full height.
He aimed and fired a single, decisive shot. The third man crumpled in the doorway, his body wedging the heavy doors open.
The hallway fell into a terrifying, ringing silence. The warm golden light flickered as a damaged sconce swayed precariously above.
Marcus did not lower his weapon. He kept his very short stubble and sharply defined jawline locked in a mask of lethal focus, his eyes scanning the corridor outside for further threats.
"Is everyone unharmed?" Marcus asked quietly, pulling Mira and his son securely against his chest.
Before Mira could answer, the frantic, panicked shouting of a secondary strike team echoed down the hallway, followed immediately by the sound of more glass shattering. The Vane syndicate hadn't just sent three men; the breach was massive.
"Mira, take Noah and run to the safe room," Marcus commanded, his eyes fixed on the smoke-filled corridor. "Do not stop until the heavy doors lock behind you."
"I am not leaving you here!" Mira cried out, her voice cracking with terror. "They have an army, Marcus!"
"Will you survive running through a crossfire if I attempt to move you now?" Marcus asked bluntly, his imposing frame blocking the exit to the hallway.
"I can't just leave you alone in the dark!" Mira pleaded, her hands trembling as she clutched Noah to her side.
Marcus stared at the beautiful woman before him. She possessed a profound, quiet courage that completely eclipsed the shallow, venomous nature of the elites he normally dealt with. She was willing to stand in a gunfight rather than abandon him.
"Are you willing to follow my exact orders to keep yourself alive?" Marcus asked, his cold eyes burning with a fierce, protective fire.
"Yes," Mira promised without hesitation.
"Then go," Marcus commanded, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "I will hold the line here. If I fall, Vincent has instructions to get you and Noah out of the city. Now, go!"
Mira didn't argue further. The absolute authority in his voice left no room for hesitation. She scooped Noah into her arms, her black maid dress swirling around her legs, and sprinted down the corridor toward the heavily fortified safe room, her unevenly cut hair flying wildly behind her.
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Marcus watched them go, a profound sense of relief washing over him as the heavy steel doors of the safe room slammed shut and locked securely.
He turned back to face the ruined doorway, his tailored suit dusted with plaster and ash. He raised his weapon, his artistic tattoos flexing against the grip, and stepped fully into the line of fire, ready to burn his own empire to the ground to protect the woman and child hidden behind him.
