Chapter 7
The grand, luminous mansion had descended into a nightmare of shattered glass and blinding muzzle flashes. Emergency red lights pulsed in the hallways, casting violent shadows over the marble floors. The scent of white roses was instantly replaced by the acrid stench of cordite and burning wood.
Inside the study, Audrey jolted as the first explosion rattled the bookshelves. Felix woke up with a sharp cry, his small hands clutching the lapels of his formal waistcoat.
“It’s alright, Felix, I’ve got you,” Audrey whispered fiercely, scooping the boy out of the heavy leather armchair.
Silas stood by the door, his weapon drawn, peering through the security peephole. “They’re in the main corridor. We need to move, now. This door won’t hold against a breaching charge.”
“Where do we go?” Audrey asked, keeping her body angled to shield the boy. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, but her voice remained astonishingly steady.
Before Silas could answer, a spray of bullets tore through the heavy oak door, sending jagged splinters flying across the room. Silas grunted as a round caught him in the shoulder, spinning him backward into the desk.
Audrey dropped to the floor, covering Felix entirely with her own body. The banker’s lamp shattered, raining green glass down upon her white apron.
The door was kicked open. Two men in tactical gear stepped into the room, their weapons raised.
They didn't get a chance to fire. From the darkness of the hallway behind them, Bastian materialized like a wraith. With ruthless precision, he dispatched both men before they could register his presence. He stepped over their bodies, his tailored suit dusted with plaster, his sidearm smoking.
He looked down at Audrey, who was slowly sitting up, her arms wrapped tightly around his terrified son.
“Are you hit, Audrey?” Bastian asked, his deep voice cutting through the ringing in her ears.
“No, sir. We’re okay,” Audrey breathed, scrambling to her feet and pulling Felix up with her. She glanced at Silas, who was groaning and pressing a hand to his bleeding shoulder.
“Can you walk, Silas?” Bastian asked, moving to help his security chief stand.
“I’m good, boss. Just a through-and-through,” Silas gritted his teeth. “But the front is overrun. We can’t get to the garage.”
Bastian looked at Audrey. His perceptive eyes took in her calm demeanor, the way she held his son, the complete lack of panic in her posture. “Do you know the servant corridors, Audrey?”
“Yes,” Audrey answered immediately. “There’s a dumbwaiter shaft behind the pantry that leads directly to the subterranean laundry levels. We can bypass the main floor entirely and reach the emergency exit tunnels.”
“Could you lead us there in the dark?” Bastian inquired, reloading his weapon with a sharp, mechanical click.
“I clean those halls every day, Mr. Wells. I can do it blindfolded,” Audrey said, tightening her grip on Felix’s hand.
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“Shall we go, then?” Bastian asked, gesturing toward the hidden paneling at the back of the study that connected to the staff corridors.
They moved quickly. The narrow, unadorned servant halls were pitch black, a stark contrast to the luxurious spaces they served. Audrey led the way, navigating the twisting corridors by memory and touch, her hand trailing along the cold concrete walls. Bastian covered their rear, his presence a heavy, lethal shadow protecting them from the chaos erupting in the mansion above.
