Chapter 6 - Blood on the Marble
The grand foyer of the Lake Forest estate looked like a war zone.
Crystal from the shattered chandelier lay scattered across the blood-stained Italian marble floors like fallen stars. Heavy smoke hung thick in the air, smelling of cordite, plaster dust, and copper.
I leaned against the corner of the mahogany dining room archway, firing a tight three-round burst from my assault rifle. Fifty feet away, a mercenary in black tactical gear slumped against a marble column and slid to the floor.
"Push them back!" Marco roared from behind the overturned grand piano, returning heavy suppressive fire toward the front entrance.
Lorenzo’s mercenaries had underestimated us. They thought cutting the power and throwing twenty-five men at the house would result in an easy massacre. But my soldiers were battle-hardened veterans who knew every corner, corridor, and hidden alcove of this estate.
Within fifteen minutes of intense, brutal room-to-room combat, eighteen of Lorenzo’s men lay dead or dying in the gardens and hallways.
"Clear the east wing!" I shouted to my men, stepping over the debris as the gunfire finally began to die down into agonizing groans and crackling fires.
"Boss!" Marco called out, running over to me, his uniform torn and blood running from a shallow graze on his forehead. "Outer perimeter is secured! The remaining three mercenaries are retreating into the woods!"
"Let them go," I panted, lowering my weapon as I wiped sweat and gun smoke from my face. "They’ll lead us straight back to Lorenzo."
Suddenly, a violent crashing sound echoed from the basement stairwell behind the kitchen.
My heart plummeted into my stomach.
"The bunker!" I yelled.
Marco and I sprinted down the corridor, through the shattered kitchen, and descended the stairs into the darkness of the wine cellar.
Standing outside the heavy steel blast door was a lone mercenary—a tall, heavily built man who had somehow bypassed the foyer battle by slipping through the subterranean drainage tunnels. He had strapped a thick block of C4 military explosive directly against the bunker’s electronic lock console and was frantically connecting a digital detonator.
"Hey!" I roared.
The mercenary spun around, reaching for his sidearm.
Before he could raise his weapon, I closed the distance between us in two blinding strides, grabbing his wrist and twisting it violently until his arm bone snapped with a sickening crunch. He screamed in pain, dropping his gun.
I slammed him face-first into the stone wall of the wine cellar, pulled my tactical knife from my vest, and buried it deep into his shoulder, pinning him against the rack of vintage wines.
"Who told you about the subterranean tunnel?!" I snarled into his ear, pressing my weight against the knife handle.
"Lorenzo..." the man gasped through blood-flecked lips. "Lorenzo has... a map of the estate's blueprint... bought it from... the original architect..."
I pulled the knife free and let him collapse onto the stone floor, unconscious.
I quickly ripped the plastic explosive off the lock console, disarmed the detonator, and tossed it safely aside.
I knocked three times on the steel blast door in our secret code: Two short, one long.
The hydraulic seals hissed open.
The door swung back, revealing Elena standing there with a heavy iron fire poker raised above her head, her body trembling with fierce, defensive courage. Behind her, Sophie sat on the carpet, holding baby Nora, while Theo and Miles looked up at the door with wide, curious eyes.
When Elena saw me standing there—covered in plaster dust, sweat, and blood, but alive—she dropped the fire poker with a heavy metallic clatter.
Without a word, she lunged forward, throwing her arms around my neck and burying her face in my shoulder.
I froze for a fraction of a second, unused to such raw, genuine affection, before wrapping my strong arms around her waist and pulling her close against my chest.
"They didn't get in, Elena," I whispered into her dark hair, feeling her heart hammering against my ribs. "It's over. You're safe."
Sophie walked over, clutching her cloth doll, and gently tapped my leg. "Mr. Adrien... did you chase the bad men away?"
May you like
I broke the embrace with Elena, dropped to one knee, and pulled little Sophie into my arm alongside her mother.
"Yes, Sophie," I said softly, kissing her forehead. "We chased them away. And now, I am going to make sure they never come back."
