Chapter 8
"Drop it, Veronica!" a voice roared from the shadows behind Clara.
Before Veronica could pull the trigger, a deafening spray of bullets shattered the plaster walls of the corridor. Veronica's two mercenaries dropped instantly, their bodies hitting the floor with heavy thuds. Veronica shrieked, diving behind a thick marble pillar as the gunfire ceased.
Clara spun around. Ronan stood at the top of the servants' staircase. He was covered in sweat and dust, a deep gash bleeding profusely over his left brow, but his dark eyes burned with an unholy, terrifying rage. He held an assault rifle, smoke still curling from the barrel.
"Ronan!" Clara cried, her voice cracking with sheer relief.
"Get behind me, Clara," Ronan ordered, his voice cold and commanding. He descended the stairs with lethal grace, keeping his rifle trained on the marble pillar where Veronica was hiding.
Clara scrambled up a few steps, pressing her back against the wall, but she kept the silver handgun raised, her hands shaking violently.
"It's over, Veronica," Ronan called out, his voice echoing in the blood-stained corridor. "Your men are dead in the foyer. Silas has secured the perimeter. You are the last one breathing in my house."
A bitter, hysterical laugh echoed from behind the pillar. "You think you've won? You think my father will stop here?"
"Your father is dead," Ronan stated flatly. The words hung in the air like a death sentence. "I sent a team to his compound the moment you breached my gates. He took a bullet to the head ten minutes ago. The Shaw syndicate is broken."
Silence fell over the corridor. A ragged gasp came from behind the marble.
"You're lying," Veronica hissed.
"Step out and look at my face, Veronica. Tell me if I look like I'm lying," Ronan said, stepping closer to the pillar, closing the distance to execute her.
Suddenly, Veronica lunged from her cover, but she didn't aim at Ronan. With wild, desperate eyes, she pointed her suppressed pistol directly at Clara's stomach on the stairs.
"If I lose everything, so do you!" Veronica screamed, pulling the trigger.
Time seemed to slow to a terrifying crawl. Ronan roared, throwing his massive body directly in the path of the bullet. The suppressed gunshot was a quiet thwip, but the impact was devastating. Ronan grunted violently as the bullet tore through his shoulder, spinning him backward. He hit the stairs hard, his assault rifle clattering out of his hands.
"Ronan!" Clara screamed.
Veronica smiled a deranged, triumphant grin and stepped forward to finish the mafia boss. She aimed down at Ronan's bleeding chest.
Before Veronica could fire, a sharp, deafening BANG echoed through the narrow corridor.
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Veronica froze. Her eyes went wide with shock. The suppressed pistol slipped from her fingers. She looked down at her chest, where a blossoming stain of dark red was spreading rapidly. She swayed for a moment before collapsing lifelessly to the floor.
Clara stood on the stairs, both hands gripping the silver handgun. Smoke drifted lazily from the barrel. She was breathing in ragged, gasping sobs, staring at the woman she had just killed.
