Chapter 5 - The Siege at the Tribeca EstateThe heavy oak doors of the kennel wing were splintered wide open.

As I burst into the sunlit marble hallway, the acrid smell of burnt gunpowder hung thick in the air. Glass from a shattered display case crunched beneath my sneakers.

"Get down!" a deep voice roared.

Before I could duck, a massive black blur slammed into my waist, tackling me hard to the polished marble floor.

Thud!

I gasped, the air rushing out of my lungs. But as I blinked open my eyes, I realized it wasn't a bullet that had hit me—it was Orion.

The colossal hound had thrown his entire hundred-and-thirty-pound body over mine, shielding me with his massive frame while a flurry of suppressive gunfire chewed through the wallboards just inches above our heads.

"Olivia!" Dante’s voice rang out from down the corridor.

I peered past Orion’s thick neck. Fifty feet away, Dante Moretti was crouched behind a marble pillar, firing methodically with his Beretta down the long hallway. Two men in tactical black gear lay motionless near the doorway, while a third—wounded in the shoulder—scrambled backward through the shattered french doors toward the garden.

"Dante! Watch out!" I screamed, spotting a fourth gunman stepping out from a side alcove, his assault rifle raised directly toward Dante’s exposed flank.

Without a second thought, I grabbed a heavy, brass decorative vase from a nearby side table and hurled it with all my might down the hallway.

Clang!

The heavy metal urn struck the gunman squarely in the side of his helmet, throwing his aim off just enough for his bullet to splinter the mahogany doorframe instead of hitting Dante.

In a fraction of a second, Dante spun around, his Beretta flashing once in the dim light.

Puff.

The gunman dropped instantly.

Silence descended on the hallway once more, broken only by the whistling wind coming through the broken glass and Orion’s heavy panting against my chest.

Dante lowered his pistol, his chest heaving, his dark hair slightly disheveled. He sprinted down the hallway, dropping to his knees beside Orion and me. His gray eyes were wide, scanning my body with frantic intensity.

"Are you hit?" he demanded, his hands gripping my shoulders, checking for blood. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm... I'm fine," I gasped, breathless, staring up at him. "The vase... did I help?"

A breathless, incredulous laugh escaped Dante’s lips. He shook his head, a mixture of sheer exasperation and raw, unadulterated awe washing over his face. "You threw a brass antique at a trained syndicate assassin. You're out of your mind."

"Well, nobody gave me a gun!" I retorted, adrenaline still pumping fiercely through my veins.

May you like

"My mistress laughed outside my wife's ICU room and whispered 'She's gon...

"My maid's 4-year-old daughter claimed she was my bodyguard—then she cau...

"My husband's pregnant mistress forced a backless dress code to expose m...

Dante slowly pulled me up into a standing position, his arm remaining firmly around my waist to steady my trembling legs. He looked down at Orion, who gave a happy bark and licked my hand.

"Get the cleanup crew in here," Dante shouted into the secure comms unit pinned to his collar. "And secure the perimeter. Julian Vance’s inner circle just made their move. The war has officially begun."