Chapter 6 - Blood and RedemptionThe acrid smoke was so thick it burned my throat, but through the hazy red glow of the emergency lights, I saw movement.
Two tactical operatives stepped through the wrecked doorway, automatic rifles raised, scanning the room for targets.
Ethan moved with terrifying, lethal precision. Rising from behind a concrete pillar, he fired twice with ruthless accuracy. Both men crumpled instantly, falling hard against the floor.
Before Ethan could re-acquire his target, a third operative rounded the desk, lunging straight toward me with a suppressed submachine gun leveled at my chest.
"Emma!" Ethan roared.
Adrenaline surged through my veins with the force of a tidal wave. All the fear, all the hesitation evaporated, replaced by the fierce, protective instinct of an expectant mother staring down an apex predator.
I raised the heavy pistol Ethan had given me, aligned the iron sights with shaking hands, and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The recoil kicked violently against my wrist. The bullet caught the operative squarely in the shoulder plate, spinning him off balance.
It was all the opening Ethan needed.
In a flash, Ethan closed the distance, striking the man across the temple with the heavy butt of his gun, sending him crashing unconscious to the floor.
Silence descended on the office, broken only by the crackle of a small fire burning near the hallway entrance and our heavy, ragged breathing.
Ethan dropped his weapon, rushed to my side, and yanked me up into his arms, pulling me against his chest so hard I could feel the frantic pounding of his heart.
"Are you hit?" he demanded, frantically running his hands over my arms and shoulders, checking for blood. "Emma, talk to me! Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," I gasped, trembling from head to toe as the adrenaline crash set in. "I'm okay, Ethan. Really."
He pulled me tighter, burying his face in my hair, letting out a ragged shudder that shook his massive frame. "When I saw him point that gun at you... I thought... I thought I lost you."
"You didn't lose me," I whispered, burying my face against his broad chest, breathing in the scent of smoke and sandalwood.
Footsteps echoed heavily up the metal stairs. We both froze, Ethan instantly scooping his weapon off the floor and stepping in front of me, shielding me with his body.
The door frame gave way entirely, and Dante rushed in, bleeding from a superficial graze on his temple, followed by four of our loyal security detail.
"Boss! Sector four is secure, but the front gates are totaled," Dante panted, taking in the carnage in the office. "Are you both alright?"
"We're alive," Ethan said coldly, his eyes as hard as flint. "Sweep the lower levels. Find out who leaked our security schedule to Viktor’s crew. I want names, addresses, and I want Viktor's operations dismantled by sunrise."
"On it, boss," Dante nodded, throwing a respectful glance my way before sprinting back down the stairs.
Ethan turned back to me, his hands gently resting on my shoulders. The fierce, warlike aura he projected moments ago melted away, leaving behind a profound, aching vulnerability.
"You need to get out of here," Ethan said softly. "A private jet is prepped at Teterboro. I'm sending you to Zurich. You'll be safe there."
"No," I said, stepping back, looking him straight in the eye.
Ethan frowned. "Emma, this isn't a negotiation. Viktor knows you're connected to me now. You aren't safe in New York."
"I'm not going to Zurich," I repeated, my voice steady and unyielding. I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out the small grayscale ultrasound printout, and pressed it directly into his palm.
Ethan looked down at the paper, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What is this?"
"Look closer, Ethan," I whispered, tears finally spilling over my lashes.
He stared at the tiny grayscale smudge, his dark eyes tracing the medical annotations in the corner. Slowly, the color drained entirely from his face. The man who had faced down assassins without blinking looked as though he had been struck by lightning.
"Emma..." he breathed, his voice cracking violently. "Is this...?"
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"Five weeks," I whispered, placing my hand over his large, trembling fingers where they clutched the ultrasound. "That last night together, Ethan. You gave me a divorce settlement, but you also gave me a baby."
Ethan stood frozen in the center of the smoke-filled room, the formidable mafia boss entirely disarmed by the tiny speck of life resting in his hand.
