Chapter 3 - The Little Guardian
Her name was Lily.
She was three years old, wearing a faded pink nightgown with yellow daisies printed on the sleeves. Her dark hair was messy from sleep, and she held a small, earless plush rabbit clutched tightly against her chest.
Clara, her mother, had been restrained in the kitchen by two frantic guards who were trying to keep the staff safe during the lockdown. In the chaos of the gunfire and shouting, Lily had simply opened her bedroom door, followed the strange noise, and wandered into the great hall.
"Lily!" Clara’s horrified scream echoed faintly from behind the heavy oak kitchen doors. "No! Lily, stop!"
The guards turned. Marco turned. Dr. Vance went rigid.
"Oh God," Marco whispered, his heart dropping into his stomach. "Get her back! Grab her!"
"Don't run!" Dr. Vance hissed, terrified. "If anyone lunges for her, the dog will trigger!"
Bruno turned his massive head slowly toward the tiny intruder.
The beast looked monstrous in the dim light. His jaw was wet, his scars jagged, his dark fur bristling with lethal intent. He shifted his posture, turning his massive chest toward the small child who had just stepped over the broken glass.
Everyone stopped breathing. Marco slowly raised his gun, his finger tightening on the trigger. He hated the thought, but if that monster moved toward the maid's child, he would put three bullets into Bruno's head, even if it meant execution later.
Lily stopped three feet away from the glass. She blinked her large, innocent brown eyes, looking at the pool of blood, then at the men with guns, and finally at the massive dog standing over the fallen titan.
She didn't cry. She didn't scream.
To Lily, the world was simple. Big dogs were soft. And the scary man who lived in the big house was the man who always put chocolate buttons in her mother's apron pocket when he thought no one was looking.
"Doggy," Lily said softly. Her small, thin voice carried through the silent hall like a feather dropping on stone.
Bruno's ears twitched.
The terrifying hum deep in the dog's chest suddenly died down.
Lily took a step forward. Her tiny, bare feet made soft clicking sounds on the smooth marble floor.
"Lily, sweetie, stay still," Marco gasped, his voice barely a whisper, sweat blinding his left eye. "Don't move..."
Lily ignored him. She didn't look at Marco. She looked at Bruno.
She walked right past the puddle of blood, stepping calmly toward the beast that had terrorized forty hardened mercenaries. She stopped inches away from Bruno’s giant, scar-ridden snout.
Bruno lowered his head until his nose was level with her tiny face. He took a long, slow breath, sniffing her hair, her hands, the plush rabbit.
Then, Bruno did something no human in that house had ever seen him do.
The fearsome Naples hound dropped his massive ears flat against his head. He let out a low, whimpering sigh—a sound of pure, unadulterated heartbreak—and gently licked Lily's small cheek.
Lily giggled softly, reaching out her tiny, chubby hand to pat the loose skin around Bruno’s neck. "Soft doggy."
She looked down at Aleandro, who lay motionless, his eyes half-open, his chest barely rising.
"Mr. Lee sleeping?" Lily asked Bruno.
Bruno let out another whining breath. He nudged Lily’s small elbow with his snout, then looked down at Aleandro’s face, and back up at Lily.
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It wasn't an accident. It wasn't random animal instinct.
The dog was pleading. He was asking the only creature in the house he knew carried no malice, no guns, and no scent of betrayal to help the man on the floor.
