Chapter 9
The warm golden light flickered as a damaged sconce swayed precariously above. The acrid smell of gun smoke mixed with the scent of pine and polished wood.
Elias 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. The artistic tattoos on his hands gripped the dark metal of his firearm with absolute certainty.
"Is everyone unharmed?" Elias asked quietly, pulling Lena and his son securely against his chest.
Before Lena 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, a coordinated assault designed to wipe out the Crowne leadership in a single night.
"Lena, take Owen and run to the safe room," Elias 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!" Lena cried out, her voice cracking with terror. "They have an army, Elias!"
"Will you survive running through a crossfire if I attempt to move you now?" Elias asked bluntly, his imposing frame blocking the exit to the hallway.
"I can't just leave you alone in the dark!" Lena pleaded, her hands trembling as she clutched Owen to her side, the glass ornament pressed safely between them.
Elias 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?" Elias asked, his cold eyes burning with a fierce, protective fire.
"Yes," Lena promised without hesitation.
"Then go," Elias commanded, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "I will hold the line here. If I fall, Vincent has instructions to get you and Owen out of the city. Now, go!"
Lena didn't argue further. The absolute authority in his voice left no room for hesitation. She scooped Owen into her arms, her black maid dress swirling around her legs, and sprinted down the corridor toward the heavily fortified safe room, her disheveled hair flying wildly behind her.
Elias 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 with a resounding, metallic clack.
May you like
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.
The secondary strike team poured into the hallway, their assault rifles blazing. Elias moved with lethal, calculated precision, using the overturned marble pillars for cover. He fired methodically, each shot finding its mark in the chaos.
