Chapter 6 - Blood in the SnowThe warm, safe bubble of the cottage shattered instantly.
Damon was on his feet in a fraction of a second, his entire demeanor shifting from a broken, pleading husband into a ruthless, lethal mafia kingpin. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying fury.
“Marcus, secure the perimeter!” Damon ordered, his voice echoing with absolute authority. “Get the armored SUV backed up to the kitchen door. Nobody touches my family!”
“Damon, what’s happening?” I cried out, clutching Leo tighter as the little boy woke up fully, whimpering at the sudden shouting and flashing lights outside.
“Moretti’s men,” Damon said grimly, stepping toward the entryway and drawing a sleek, suppressed firearm from a concealed holster beneath his coat. He paused, looking back at me with absolute, unyielding determination. “They followed my security detail here. They want to finish what they started four years ago. But they will have to go through my corpse first.”
Before I could reply, the front windows of the cottage exploded inward in a shower of jagged glass and splintered wood.
Automatic gunfire ripped through the living room, chewing up the walls and shattering the picture frames.
“Get down!” Damon roared, lunging across the room and tackling me and Leo to the floor, shielding our bodies with his own broad frame as plaster and bullets rained down around us.
“Mommy, I’m scared!” Leo cried, burying his face in my neck.
“Shh, baby, look at mommy, keep your eyes on me,” I sobbed, wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I could while the deafening roar of gunfire filled the house.
Marcus and Damon’s backup team returned fire from the hallway and kitchen, their suppressed weapons snapping in rapid, lethal succession. Screams echoed from the front porch as two of Moretti’s assassins dropped instantly, neutralized before they could breach the inner doorway.
“Boss! The front is clear, but they’re coming around the back deck!” Marcus shouted over the din.
Damon stood up, firing three precise shots through the kitchen window and dropping another attacker outside in the snow. He turned back to us, his face grim, his hands stained with soot and adrenaline.
“Nora, listen to me,” Damon commanded, grabbing my shoulders and looking directly into my eyes. “You and Leo are going out the side exit with Marcus. The armored transport is waiting. I’m going to draw them away.”
“No!” I screamed, grabbing his jacket. “I’m not leaving you here! If you stay, they’ll kill you!”
“They can't kill me, Nora. Because I won't let myself die until I’ve spent the next fifty years making up for every tear you shed because of me,” Damon said fiercely, leaning down to press a deep, desperate, lingering kiss to my lips. Then, he pressed a tender kiss to Leo’s forehead. “I love you. Now go.”
Before I could argue, Marcus scooped Leo up into his arms, grabbed my hand, and dragged me toward the mudroom exit as the heavy thud of boots approached the back deck.
I looked back one last time.
May you like
Damon stood alone in the center of the shattered living room, his gun raised, his dark eyes burning with the unbridled wrath of a king defending his kingdom.
We burst out into the freezing blizzard, plunging into the deep snow as the sound of gunfire echoed behind us, swallowed up by the screaming winter wind.
