Chapter 9
The blaring sirens tore through the elegant peace of the mansion, vibrating against the ivory-paneled walls. The red strobe lights painted Elliot's angular face in a harsh, violent hue. Arthur Shaw had not waited; the disappearance of his daughter had ignited an immediate, brutal retaliation.
"Are the interior blast doors engaged?" Elliot asked, pulling a heavy, customized automatic weapon from the safe with lethal, practiced precision.
"Engaging now, sir! But they have military-grade armor. We are returning fire, but they are pushing hard toward the main house!" Marcus shouted over the radio, the sound of automatic gunfire deafening in the background.
"Will you hold the grand foyer until I arrive?" Elliot asked.
"We will hold the line, Mr. Crowne!"
Elliot released the radio button. He racked the slide of his weapon, the metallic clack echoing sharply in the large bedroom. He turned and looked at Cora. She was standing by the bed, her sophisticated black maid dress stark against the luxurious linens where Helena lay sleeping, sedated by the doctor's medication. Cora’s expressive eyes were wide with fear, yet she remained entirely resolute. She was not running.
"Are you prepared to lock these heavy oak doors behind me?" Elliot asked, walking toward her.
"Are you leaving us?" Cora cried out, panic finally lacing her American accent. "They have an army, Elliot!"
She used his first name in her desperation, the formality dropping away in the face of imminent death.
"Will you survive running through a crossfire if I attempt to move you both now?" Elliot asked bluntly, his imposing frame blocking the exit to the hallway.
"I can't just stay here and listen to them come for you!" Cora pleaded, stepping closer to him, her hands trembling.
Elliot 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 to protect a woman she barely knew.
"Are you willing to follow my exact orders to keep my wife alive?" Elliot asked, his cold eyes burning with a fierce, protective fire.
"Yes," Cora promised without hesitation.
"Will you lock this door, and open it for absolutely no one but me?" Elliot asked, his voice a low, gravelly command.
"I promise," Cora whispered, tears spilling over her lower eyelids. "Please, come back to us."
"Do you think I would let them take me away from you now?" Elliot asked, offering a faint, terrifying smile that promised absolute devastation to his enemies.
He didn't wait for her to answer. He turned and strode out of the master suite, stepping into the chaotic, flashing hallway. The bright, luminous colors of the mansion were gone, replaced by the chaotic strobe of emergency lights and the deafening, rhythmic staccato of heavy gunfire echoing from the eastern wing. The smell of cordite and burning wood filled the air.
Elliot moved with absolute, predatory grace, his weapon raised, his observant eyes sweeping every corner and gilded mirror for threats. The engagement dinner had ended in a broken alliance, but the true war for the city had only just begun. Arthur Shaw thought he was attacking a man who had stolen his daughter; he was about to discover he had awakened a monster protecting his family.
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"Shall we show them exactly what it costs to threaten my home?" Elliot asked the empty air.
He raised his weapon, stepping into the line of fire, ready to burn the world to ash as the final battle for the Crowne empire erupted into absolute chaos.
