Chapter 10
"Stay close to me," Adrian ordered, his deep voice slicing through the blaring noise.
He didn't wait for an answer. He reached out, his warm, tattooed fingers wrapping securely around the handles of Leo's wheelchair. He moved with absolute, predatory grace, pushing the chair rapidly toward the service doors, ensuring Nora was tucked safely against his broad shoulder. They stepped out into the chaotic, flashing hallway.
The bright, luminous colors of the mansion were gone, replaced by the chaotic strobe of red emergency lights and the deafening, rhythmic staccato of heavy gunfire echoing from the eastern wing. The smell of cordite and burning pine filled the air.
Adrian kept Nora and Leo tucked safely behind him, his weapon raised, his observant eyes sweeping every cream marble column and gilded wall panel for threats. They navigated the corridors, the sound of combat growing louder with every step.
As they reached the heavy oak doors separating the main house from the family wing, a massive explosion rocked the foundation of the estate.
The shockwave threw Nora against the carved walnut furniture lining the hall. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling. The heavy oak doors were blown entirely off their hinges in a blinding flash of orange fire.
"Are you injured?" Adrian shouted over the ringing in their ears, pulling Nora back to her feet and shielding Leo with his body.
"We're okay!" Nora gasped, coughing through the thick smoke, her hands gripping the wheelchair tightly.
Through the ruined doorway, the bright tactical lights of three heavily armed mercenaries pierced the darkness. They were moving aggressively down the corridor, aiming their assault rifles directly at the private residential wing.
"Did you forget whose house you entered?" Adrian asked the empty air.
He stepped out from cover. 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?" Adrian 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.
"Is everyone unharmed?" Adrian asked quietly, pulling Nora and his son securely against him.
Before Nora 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 Arden syndicate hadn't just sent three men; the breach was massive.
"Nora, push Leo to the safe room," Adrian 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!" Nora cried out, her voice cracking with terror. "They have an army, Adrian!"
"Will you survive running through a crossfire if I attempt to move you now?" Adrian asked bluntly, his imposing frame blocking the exit to the hallway.
"I can't just leave you alone in the dark!" Nora pleaded, her hands trembling as she clutched the wheelchair.
Adrian 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 had survived cruelty, and now she was willing to stand in a gunfight rather than abandon him.
"Are you willing to follow my exact orders to keep yourself alive?" Adrian asked, his cold eyes burning with a fierce, protective fire.
"Yes," Nora promised without hesitation.
"Then go," Adrian commanded, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "I will hold the line here. Now, go!"
Nora didn't argue further. She spun the wheelchair, 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.
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Adrian 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. The night was young, and the blood on the marble floor was only the beginning.
