Chapter 8 - FACE TO FACE
Roman descended through a hidden maintenance staircase that led directly behind the lower foyer walls. He drew his combat knife and his handgun, slipping into the smoke-filled room through a side access panel.
The knockout gas had cleared the mercenaries, leaving three men unconscious on the floor. Only Victor Vance remained standing, leaning heavily against a marble column, gasping for fresh air while holding his silver pistol with trembling hands.
Roman stepped through the haze, his dark silhouette cutting through the swirling smoke.
“Victor.”
Victor spun around, raising his gun, but Roman was faster. Roman kicked Victor’s wrist, sending the silver pistol flying across the marble floor. Victor gasped as Roman grabbed him by the throat and slammed him hard against the marble pillar.
“You brought war to my doorstep,” Roman hissed, his grip tightening around Victor’s neck. “You threatened my home. You threatened Claire.”
Victor choked out a bloody laugh. “You... you think you’re a king, Roman? You’re just... your father’s dog! The Blackridge Syndicate... will never let you live after tonight!”
“The syndicate doesn't know you’re here, Victor,” Roman said coldly. “Because as far as the world is concerned, you died ten years ago. And tonight, I’m making it official.”
Victor reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a hidden holdout blade, lunging upward toward Roman’s ribs.
Roman caught Victor’s wrist mid-air, reversing the momentum with terrifying strength. He twisted the blade back toward Victor’s chest, driving it deep into the old man’s heart.
Victor’s eyes widened in shock. His breath left him in a long, rattling gasp as his body went limp in Roman’s arms.
Roman held him there for three seconds, watching the life fade from his eyes, before letting the body slump heavily to the marble floor.
Silence returned to the Grand Foyer.
Above on the balcony, the iron grates slowly retracted back into the ceiling. Claire stood at the railing, looking down at Roman amidst the smoke and bodies.
Roman looked up at her, wiping a line of dark blood from his cheek with the back of his hand.
“It’s over,” Roman said, his voice echoing in the vast, quiet space.
Claire ran down the hidden stairs, bursting into the foyer. She didn't look at Victor’s body, nor did she care about the smoke or the blood. She ran straight toward Roman, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.
May you like
Roman held her tightly, pulling her close against his chest, his arms wrapping around her like a fortress. He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her hair, feeling her heart beating rapidly against his ribs.
“You’re safe,” Roman whispered into her hair. “I’ve got you.”
