Chapter 9
The heavy mahogany doors of the dining room slammed shut as Marcus pulled Nora into the corridor, leaving Graham standing alone amidst the ruins of his engagement dinner. The air in the mansion was electric, thick with the impending threat of extreme violence. Marcus practically dragged Nora down the grand hallway, her black maid dress swishing rapidly as she struggled to keep up with the massive enforcer's strides.
“Move faster, kid,” Marcus growled, his eyes scanning the shadowed archways. “If the Blakes hit the power lines, we’ll be in the dark before we reach the vault.”
As if summoned by his words, a deafening explosion rocked the foundation of the estate. The concussive blast shattered the massive stained-glass windows at the front of the mansion, sending a deadly shower of shrapnel raining across the marble foyer. The cascading crystal chandeliers above them violently flickered and died, plunging the hallway into pitch blackness, save for the strobing red glare of the emergency security lights.
Nora screamed, throwing her hands over her ears as the deafening staccato of automatic gunfire erupted from the front gates. The war had arrived.
“Get down!” Marcus roared, shoving Nora roughly to the floor behind a heavy marble pillar just as a barrage of bullets tore through the drywall where they had been standing a second before.
Nora curled into a tight ball, her pristine white apron instantly stained with dust and plaster. She squeezed her eyes shut, sobbing in sheer terror. The sound of shouting men and shattering glass was overwhelming. She was a housemaid, a civilian caught in the crossfire of titans.
From the darkness of the corridor behind them, Graham emerged like a phantom. He had shed his tailored suit jacket, moving with terrifying, lethal speed. The muzzle flashes from the foyer briefly illuminated his angular face, highlighting the cold, predatory calm in his observant eyes.
“Is the vault corridor compromised, Marcus?” Graham asked, his deep voice carrying flawlessly over the deafening noise of the firefight. He crouched beside them, firing two precise, suppressed shots down the hallway, dropping a Blake enforcer who had breached the side door.
“They flanked us, Boss!” Marcus yelled over the gunfire. “They came through the servant's entrance! The path to the vault is cut off!”
Graham’s jaw tightened. The extremely short stubble on his face caught the red emergency light. He looked down at Nora, who was shivering violently against the marble pillar, completely paralyzed by fear.
“Can you stand, Nora?” Graham asked quietly, reaching out his tattooed hand toward her.
Nora opened her tear-filled eyes, looking at the hand offered to her in the darkness. She nodded weakly, grasping his fingers. Graham pulled her to her feet with effortless strength, pulling her tightly against his broad, powerful chest to shield her from the flying debris.
“Marcus, will you lay suppressive fire toward the east wing?” Graham commanded, his weapon raised. “Shall we take the secret passage behind the library?”
“It’s a bottleneck, Boss, but it’s our only shot!” Marcus agreed, stepping out from cover and unleashing a deafening volley of fire down the hall to clear their path.
“Will you hold onto me and not let go, no matter what happens?” Graham asked Nora, looking down into her terrified face.
“I won't let go,” Nora promised, burying her face against his chest, her hands gripping his vest.
May you like
“Are you ready to run?” Graham asked.
With Nora secured against his side, Graham surged forward into the chaotic, smoke-filled darkness of the mansion, moving toward the library as the war for his empire raged fiercely around them.
