Chapter 8 - BULLETS AND SHADOWS
The security feeds showed absolute warfare.
Men in black tactical gear swarmed over the perimeter walls, cutting through iron fencing with plasma torches.
Gunfire cracked through the rain-soaked air.
Glass shattered as heavy-caliber rounds tore through the conservatory windows where I had been sitting just minutes earlier.
Dominic stood in the center of the grand foyer, completely calm, two pistols raised in his hands.
Bang. Bang.
Two syndicate hitmen dropping instantly as they breached the double doors.
His movements were fluid, deadly, and terrifyingly precise.
“He's good,” Marcus muttered, watching the monitors from inside the bunker.
“He's too exposed out there,” I whispered, my fingernails digging into my palms until they drew blood.
“The boss knows what he's doing, Claire,” Marcus replied, checking the magazine of his submachine gun.
“This is his house. They walked into a slaughterhouse.”
On the screen, more men poured through the broken glass.
Four against one.
Then six against one.
Dominic ducked behind a massive marble pillar as a barrage of automatic gunfire chewed the stone to powder.
He reloaded with practiced speed, spun out from behind cover, and dropped two more assailants before taking a round to his left shoulder.
I gasped, pressing my hands against the cold monitor screen.
“He's hit!”
“Flesh wound,” Marcus said grimly, though his jaw tightened.
Dominic didn't even flinch.
He pressed his back against the pillar, firing back with cold, methodical efficiency until the grand foyer fell eerily silent once more.
Six bodies lay motionless on the marble floor.
Blood pooled against the polished white stone.
Dominic dropped his empty magazines, breathing heavily, clutching his bleeding shoulder.
He looked directly up at the security camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling—knowing I was watching from the bunker.
He gave a slow, reassuring nod.
Then, suddenly, the monitor screen flickered and went entirely black.
“Marcus?!” I shouted, spinning around.
“What happened?!”
Marcus tapped the console frantically.
“They cut the main generator lines from the basement vault! The power's dead!”
My breath caught in my throat.
“The vault... where Vanessa is.”
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Marcus's face went completely pale.
“They didn't come here to kill Dominic. They came here to get Vanessa out—or silence her permanently before she talks to federal prosecutors!”
