Chapter 9
A heavy, sickening crunch echoed through the bunker as Nolan Ashford materialized from the smoke.
The mafia boss didn't bother with his firearm. He grabbed the mercenary from behind, locking a massive arm around the man's neck and twisting violently. The mercenary dropped instantly, lifeless. Nolan shoved the body aside and drew his heavy pistol in one fluid motion, firing a single, deafening shot that caught the second recovering mercenary square in the chest.
The silence that followed was broken only by Daphne’s frantic, pain-filled screams as she rubbed her burning eyes.
Nolan stood in the center of the bunker. His dark turtleneck was torn and stained with blood and soot. His swept-back hair was wild, and his dark eyes burned with an unholy, terrifying fury. He looked like the devil himself, summoned from the depths of hell to protect his own.
He looked at Elise, kneeling on the floor in front of Noah, her chest heaving, the empty fire extinguisher rolling away from her.
"Elise," Nolan rasped, his voice raw with adrenaline and fear. He closed the distance in two strides, dropping to his knees and hauling her into a desperate, crushing embrace.
"You came back," Elise sobbed, burying her face in his broad shoulder, inhaling the scent of smoke and his sharp cologne.
"I swore on my life," Nolan whispered fiercely, pressing a hard kiss to the side of her head. He reached out and pulled Noah into the embrace, burying his face in his son's soft curls. "Are you hurt? Did they touch you?"
"No. We're okay," Elise gasped, pulling back slightly to look at his face. "Marcus is out there. He was hit."
"My men have Marcus. He'll live," Nolan assured her, his jaw tightening.
He stood up slowly, turning his attention to Daphne. The disgraced heiress had managed to wipe enough foam from her eyes to see the towering figure of her former fiancé standing over her. She scrambled backward against the concrete wall, pure terror finally replacing her aristocratic arrogance.
"Nolan, please," Daphne begged, holding her hands up, her pristine tactical coat covered in white foam. "My father sent me. I had to do it. He threatened to disown me."
Nolan reached down, grabbing her by the lapels of her coat and hoisting her effortlessly to her feet. He slammed her against the concrete wall, his forearm pressing against her collarbone, pinning her in place. The artistic tattoos on his hands flexed as he gripped his pistol.
"You brought war into my house," Nolan whispered, a demonic rumble that vibrated through the bunker. "You aimed a weapon at my son. You threatened the woman I love."
Elise’s breath hitched at the declaration, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
"Nolan, wait!" Daphne choked out, gasping for air. "If you kill me, my father will burn the city to the ground. He has alliances with the northern syndicates. You can't win a war against all of us."
"Your father is dead," Nolan stated coldly, the words striking Daphne like a physical blow. "I put a bullet through his skull twenty minutes ago at the docks. The Voss syndicate is finished."
Daphne’s eyes widened in absolute, despairing horror. The empire she thought she was inheriting was gone.
Nolan didn't kill her. He shoved her away in disgust, letting her collapse onto the concrete floor. He looked back at the heavily armed guards who had followed him down the corridor.
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"Take her to the holding cells," Nolan ordered. "She will stand before the Commission tomorrow and confess to the breach of peace."
As the guards dragged a sobbing Daphne away, Nolan turned back to Elise. The violence in his eyes melted away, replaced by a profound, agonizing vulnerability. He had nearly lost everything that mattered to him.
