Chapter 8 - Breach
Chaos descended upon the Russo estate like a hurricane. Gunfire cracked through the corridors—the heavy, terrifying rattle of automatic rifles mixing with the sharp pops of pistols. Smoke began to curl beneath the heavy double doors of the east wing suite, smelling of cordite and burning timber. Norah backed away from the door, her heart hammering against her ribs so hard she felt lightheaded. She grabbed a heavy brass candlestick from the mantelpiece, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she pointed it toward the entrance. She wasn't a fighter. She was a nanny who had stumbled into a nightmare. But she was a mother now. And mothers protect their children with whatever they have left.
The lock on the double doors clicked. Someone was trying to force the handle from the outside. Norah held her breath, raising the heavy brass candlestick high above her head, ready to swing with everything she had. The door burst open. A man in tactical black gear and a ski mask lunged into the room, holding a submachine gun. He wasn't one of Dominic’s guards. He was a Savanov soldier. His eyes widened when he saw Norah standing there, very visibly pregnant, holding a makeshift weapon. A cruel, ugly grin spread across his face beneath the mask. “Well, look what we found,” the intruder rasped in a thick Eastern European accent. “The boss’s little pet.” He raised his weapon. Norah screamed and swung the heavy brass candlestick with all her might. It caught him squarely across the shoulder, staggering him back a step, but the heavy tactical vest absorbed most of the blow. The man grunted in anger, raising the butt of his gun to strike her down. Norah braced for impact, squeezing her eyes shut, pressing her hands protectively over her belly.
The blow never landed. A heavy, dark blur slammed into the intruder from the side, tackling him through the open doorway and crashing him violently against the hallway wall. Dominic. He was bleeding from a shallow gash across his forehead, his dark shirt torn at the shoulder, but his eyes were blazing with unadulterated fury. The two men rolled across the carpeted hallway in a brutal, silent struggle of survival. The intruder tried to bring his gun around, but Dominic was faster. With a sickening crunch, Dominic twisted the man’s wrist, heard the bone snap, and drove his fist into the intruder's jaw with the force of a sledgehammer. The man went limp instantly. Dominic stood up, breathing heavily, wiping a smear of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at Norah standing in the doorway, pale and shaking. “Are you hit?” he demanded, rushing over and running his hands frantically over her arms and shoulders. “No,” Norah breathed, staring at the unconscious man bleeding on the floor. “No, I’m okay.” “Viktor has the perimeter secured, but the front gates are breached,” Dominic said quickly, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the private service elevator hidden behind the mahogany bookshelves. “We’re getting out of here. Now.”
