Chapter 10
The bright, cinematic elegance of the ballroom descended into immediate, organized chaos. The clean whites of the tablecloths were torn away as capos and loyal staff upended the heavy wooden dining tables, dragging them across the polished marble to form a barricade against the massive mahogany entrance doors. Crystal glasses shattered underfoot, crunching loudly beneath expensive leather shoes.
"Move! Everyone into the kitchens!" Vincent roared, ushering the terrified donors and socialites through the service archways.
Aldous did not run. He stood in the center of the room, calmly unbuttoning his ruined tuxedo jacket and letting it drop to the floor. He drew a heavy, dark pistol from his shoulder holster, checking the magazine with practiced, lethal precision.
"Aldous," Carys said, her voice shaking as she stood beside him. "What do we do?"
"You are going into the wine cellar with the guests," Aldous said, turning to face her.
"No," Carys said fiercely, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I am not leaving you here."
"Carys, they have assault rifles," Aldous said, stepping closer and gripping her shoulders. His handsome face was tense, the extremely short stubble rough against the bright light. "This is not a fight you can win with a mop. If they breach those doors, this room will become a slaughterhouse. You must hide."
"You said I was the bravest person in this estate," Carys argued, her expressive eyes locking onto his. "Don't ask me to be a coward now."
Before Aldous could argue further, a deafening, thunderous BOOM echoed through the ballroom.
The heavy mahogany doors shook violently on their hinges. Fintan’s men were using a breaching ram on the other side.
"Positions!" Vincent screamed, racking the slide of a shotgun and dropping behind an overturned table.
Aldous pulled Carys forcefully behind a thick marble pillar near the head table, shielding her completely with his broad, masculine frame. He raised his pistol, aiming it squarely at the buckling doors.
BOOM.
The wood of the doors began to splinter. The warm, elegant lighting of the chandeliers flickered as the vibrations shook the ceiling.
"If we survive this," Aldous murmured, his dark eyes locked on the doors, his voice a low, vibrating promise over the sound of the battering ram, "I am taking you out of that maid's dress forever."
"If we survive this," Carys whispered, pressing her back against the cold marble pillar, her heart hammering in her throat, "I will hold you to that."
BOOM. CRACK.
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The heavy iron hinges of the mahogany doors snapped. The massive wooden slabs crashed forward into the ballroom, slamming into the barricade of tables with a deafening roar. Tactical lights pierced the bright, airy room, and the terrifying silhouette of twenty armed men flooded the entrance.
Aldous tightened his grip on his weapon, his jaw set in absolute stone, ready to burn his own empire to the ground to protect the woman hiding behind him.
