Chapter 8 - Blood on the Crest
The gunfight in the sea cavern was short, brutal, and chaotic.
Muzzle flashes illuminated the ancient carved walls as Roman’s men engaged the mercenaries. The sound of gunfire echoed like thunder in the enclosed stone space. Clara ducked behind a fallen stone column as bullets chipped away at the ancient masonry above her head.
Roman moved with terrifying speed and precision. He fired three shots, dropping two mercenaries instantly, then closed the distance on a third, disarming him with a brutal strike to the throat before throwing him into the dark ocean waters below.
Julian, seeing his men fall, panicked. He turned away from the bronze door, pulled a heavy detonator from his coat, and aimed a shot directly at Clara.
"If I can't have the city, no one will!" Julian shrieked.
Roman saw the weapon pointing at Clara. Without a second thought, he threw himself across the open gap, placing his body directly between Julian’s gun and his wife.
A gun shot echoed through the cavern.
Roman grunted as the bullet struck his side, but he did not fall. He smashed into Julian like an avalanche, driving him backward against the bronze door. The pistol flew from Julian’s hand, clattering into the dark waters below.
Julian screamed as Roman caught him by the throat, lifting him off his feet and pinning him against the ancient seal of the Valente family.
"Please!" Julian choked out, his eyes wide with blind terror. "Roman... we can share it! The trade routes... the money... I'll give you everything!"
Roman’s eyes were cold, gray, and devoid of mercy. "You touched my wife’s home. You shot at my wife. There is no bargain left for you, Julian."
With a sudden, violent twist, Roman broke Julian’s neck. The body went limp, dropping onto the wet stone floor like a discarded rag.
Silence returned to the cavern, save for the heavy breathing of the surviving guards and the roar of the sea below.
Roman leaned heavily against the bronze door, his hand clutching his bleeding side. Red blood seeped through his black shirt, dripping onto the carved stone beneath his feet.
Clara rushed out from behind the column, her face pale with horror. "Roman!"
She caught him as his knees buckled, helping him slide down against the base of the bronze door. She immediately pressed her hands against his wound, her fingers coming away slick with bright crimson blood.
"Stay still," she commanded, her voice shaking as she tore a strip from her sweater to create a pressure bandage. "Marcus! Get the medical kit!"
"I am fine," Roman rasped, though his face was gray and sweat beaded his forehead.
"Shut up," Clara snapped, tears streaming down her face as she pulled the bandage tight around his waist. "You absolute fool! Why did you jump in front of that bullet?"
Roman looked up at her through blurred vision, his hand reaching out to weakly touch the tear-stained cheek of the woman he had bought for fifty thousand notes.
"Because..." Roman whispered, his voice barely audible over the waves. "A contract... must be protected."
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"You didn't do this for a contract," Clara wept, pressing her forehead against his chest, listening to the heavy, steady beat of his heart. "You did this for me."
Roman’s hand slid up to her neck, his thumb gently tracing the line of her scar. "Perhaps... I did."
