Chapter 3 - The Blood OathThe tranquility of the Ashford estate was shattered at 2:00 AM on a rainy Tuesday.
Vivien was awakened by the dull, muffled thump of an explosion echoing from the southern perimeter gate, followed instantly by the sharp, terrifying sound of automatic gunfire.
Red emergency lights flashed outside her balcony doors, casting eerie, blood-colored shadows across the ceiling of her bedroom.
Vivien scrambled out of bed, her heart hammering wildly in her throat. Before she could reach the door, it was thrown open.
Dominic stepped inside, wearing full tactical gear, a heavy black assault rifle strapped across his chest, and blood splattered across the shoulder of his shirt.
"Dominic!" Vivien gasped, backing away in terror.
"Stay behind me," he ordered, his voice remarkably calm despite the absolute chaos echoing outside the hallway.
Marcus Webb rushed into the room behind him, holding a suppressed sidearm, his face pale with urgency. "Boss, the Morettis breached the lower security wall! Silvio brought twenty men! They’re pushing toward the east elevator!"
"They aren't leaving this property alive," Dominic said coldly. He turned to Vivien, grabbing a thick bulletproof vest from Marcus and wrapping it around her shoulders, pulling the straps tight with practiced efficiency.
"I can't wear this, it's too tight on my stomach!" Vivien panicked, pulling at the heavy Kevlar.
"It will protect your chest and vitals," Dominic growled gently, cupping her face with both hands, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. "Listen to me, Vivien. You are going down to the emergency bunker beneath the wine cellar with Marcus. It is reinforced with twelve inches of solid titanium. Nothing gets through those doors."
"What about you?!" she cried out, her hands gripping the front of his tactical vest. Despite her fear of him, the thought of him dying out in those dark hallways made her stomach turn in agony.
Dominic looked down at her hands holding him, a dark, fierce satisfaction lighting up his gray eyes.
"I have three children to raise," Dominic whispered, leaning down to press a hard, lingering kiss against her lips—a kiss filled with iron, rain, and absolute promises. "I am not dying tonight."
He pulled back, turning to Marcus. "Get her to the vault. If anyone comes near that door, end them."
"Understood, Boss," Marcus nodded grimly.
Marcus grabbed Vivien’s hand, pulling her out of the room just as another volley of gunfire erupted down the west wing corridor. Vivien looked back over her shoulder one last time, seeing Dominic turn toward the oncoming darkness like an unstoppable demon of war, his rifle coming up as he stepped into the storm.
The descent to the basement was a blur of concrete stairwells, heavy steel doors, and the distant, sickening sounds of violent conflict.
When Marcus finally shoved her inside the underground bunker, the massive steel door sealed shut with a heavy, pneumatic hiss that cut off all sound from the outside world.
Silence returned—dense, suffocating, and terrifying.
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Vivien collapsed onto a leather bench inside the brightly lit vault, her hands pressed tightly over her small bump, tears streaming down her face as she listened to the dead quiet of the room.
"Please," she whispered into the empty air, her voice trembling with raw, desperate prayer. "Please come back to us."
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