Chapter 8 - The Breach
Norah didn't hesitate. She grabbed her box cutter—the one item she had insisted on keeping from her old life—and ran into the hallway behind Vance.
The mansion was in absolute chaos. Heavy gunfire echoed from the floor below—the sharp, rhythmic pop of automatic weapons mixed with the breaking of glass and screaming men. The smell of gunpowder began to fill the grand corridor.
"This way!" Vance urged, guiding her down a narrow service staircase toward the basement level.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, two men in tactical gear with black masks stepped out of the shadow of the boiler room, their rifles raised directly at Vance and Norah.
"Vance!" one of the masked men shouted. "Drop the weapon!"
Before Vance could raise his gun, the shadow behind the masked men exploded into action.
Julian appeared like an absolute demon out of the darkness. He carried a heavy matte-black pistol in his right hand. He didn't hesitate; he fired twice with terrifying speed and precision. Bang. Bang.
The two attackers crumpled to the concrete floor instantly.
Julian stepped over their bodies, his suit jacket off, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the dark tattoos along his forearms. Blood was splattered across his cheek, but his dark eyes were completely calm, focused, and lethal.
He reached out, grabbed Norah's hand, and pulled her behind his back.
"Are you hit?" he demanded, his eyes scanning her body with fierce concern.
"I'm fine!" she gasped, her heart pounding violently in her throat. "Julian, how did they find this place?"
"A mole inside the security detail," Julian said coldly, checking the magazine of his pistol with a swift click. "Victor mobilized everything he had left for a final strike. He knows I'm coming for him, and he's desperate."
He looked at Vance. "Take her to the lower vault. Lock the steel door from the inside. Do not open it for anyone except me."
"No!" Norah cried out, her fingers tightening around Julian's forearm. "I'm not leaving you here!"
Julian stopped, looking down at her. In the dim light of the basement, his face looked carved from marble—hard, terrifying, and beautiful.
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"Norah," he said softly, leaning down to press his forehead against hers for a fleeting, passionate second. "You saved my life in that alley. Now let me protect yours."
He pulled away, turned toward the stairs, and disappeared into the smoke and gunfire above, leaving her with Vance.
