Chapter 4 - The Breach at MidnightAt 1:12 AM that night, the storm over the hills reached its violent peak.
Thunder crashed against the limestone walls of the estate, rattling the high glass windows.
I lay awake in my second-floor suite, wearing a silk nightgown, staring at the ceiling, my heart hammering with an anxious dread I couldn't shake.
BOOM!
The sound wasn't thunder. It was a heavy explosion echoing from the front gates of the estate, followed immediately by the sharp, terrifying chatter of automatic rifle fire.
The alarm sirens began to wail through the corridors—a high-pitched, metallic screech that shattered the night.
I scrambled out of bed, running toward my bedroom door, but before I could touch the brass handle, the door was kicked open from the outside.
Two heavy-set men wearing dark tactical gear and night-vision goggles burst into the room, holding suppressed submachine guns. They weren't Dominic’s men—their sleeves bore the crimson viper crest of the Moretti Syndicate.
"Target acquired!" the lead shooter barked through his comms. "Grab the girl!"
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" I screamed, grabbing a heavy crystal vase from the nightstand, hurling it with all my strength.
The vase shattered against the first shooter’s tactical vest, but he barely flinched. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrists with a brutal, crushing grip, pulling me toward the hallway.
"Let her go."
A voice spoke from the dark corridor behind them—a voice so cold, so quiet, and so terrifyingly absolute that both Moretti shooters instantly froze in their tracks.
Stepping out of the shadows, wearing a black tactical harness over his dress shirt, holding his custom suppressed pistol in his right hand, was Dominic Vale.
His gray eyes burned with a dark, apocalyptic fury that made the air in the bedroom drop below freezing.
"Boss! Look out—!" the second shooter yelled, raising his rifle.
THWIP-THWIP!
Two suppressed shots echoed like quiet double-clicks.
The second shooter dropped flat onto his face, two crimson holes drilled directly between his eyes.
Before the lead shooter holding my wrists could raise his sidearm, Dominic moved with blinding, terrifying speed. He stepped inside the man's guard, his left hand snapping the shooter's wrist backward with a sickening CRACK, while his right hand drove a tactical combat blade deep into the mercenary's neck.
Blood sprayed across the hardwood floorboards as the shooter collapsed motionless.
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Dominic didn't hesitate for a single second. He pulled me into his arms, wrapping his heavy tactical vest around my shivering frame, holding me flush against his broad, solid chest.
"I've got you, Lily," Dominic growled near my ear, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs. "I've got you."
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