Chapter 6 - The Rat in the Hallway
The floor smelled of cedar polish, gunpowder, and fresh plaster dust.
Adrian held Clara pinned flat beneath him in the narrow gap between the bed and the heavy mahogany nightstand. Despite his fresh chest wound and the blinding pain that must have surged through his stitches, his body acted with terrifying speed. He covered her head with his left arm, his right hand pulling a silver-plated Colt .45 from a hidden spring-lock holster beneath the bed frame.
Titan let out a ferocious bark, standing over both of them with his teeth bared toward the shattered window.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Downstairs, automatic gunfire erupted through the courtyard. The mansion’s heavy security sirens began to shriek, red emergency lights flashing along the ceiling baseboards.
"Stay down," Adrian growled into Clara’s ear. His chest was warm, his heart beating with a slow, cold rhythm that shocked her. Most men would be racing with adrenaline; Adrian Castellano was in his element.
"Your chest!" Clara gasped, looking down. A spot of dark red was already soaking through his white bandages. "You're tearing the bypass stitches!"
"They'll hold," Adrian replied, his voice completely calm.
The bedroom door crashed open. Marco rushed in, flanked by four guards carrying short-barreled submachine guns.
"Clear!" Marco yelled, taking up a defensive position by the balcony wall. "The shooter was on the outer perimeter tree line! Our patrols are engaging them now, but they hacked the perimeter gate from the inside!"
Adrian pushed himself up slowly, leaning his back against the bed frame. His face was pale, sweat dripping down his temple, but his dark eyes burned like molten iron. He raised his handgun, pointing it directly at Marco's chest.
Marco froze, holding his hands up immediately. "Boss... what are you doing?"
"The internal gate code was changed twenty minutes ago," Adrian said softly, his voice more terrifying than the gunfire echoing outside. "Only one person had access to the master gate bypass tonight while the security team was distracted by the shift rotation."
Adrian shifted his gaze past Marco, looking toward the hallway doorway.
Standing in the shadows of the frame was Julian Castellano—Adrian’s twenty-four-year-old nephew, wearing a silk suit, his hands shaking violently in his pockets.
"Julian," Adrian called out smoothly. "Step into the room."
Julian swallowed hard, taking two reluctant steps forward. "Uncle Adrian... thank God you're safe! We heard the glass shatter and—"
"Show me your left hand," Adrian commanded.
Julian hesitated. "What? Uncle, I was downstairs in the study—"
"SHOW ME YOUR HAND!" Adrian roared, the sheer power of his command rattling the shattered window glass.
Julian slowly pulled his left hand from his pocket.
On his index finger, a faint blue smudge of ink was visible—the indelible dye used exclusively on the high-security override keys in the estate's central server vault.
A suffocating silence fell over the room.
Julian’s face collapsed into absolute terror. "Uncle... please! They threatened me! Don Moretti said if I didn't give them the access codes, they’d kill my mother! They forced me!"
Adrian didn't raise his voice. He looked at Marco.
"Take him to the cellar," Adrian instructed calmly. "Keep him alive until I can walk down those stairs myself."
"NO! UNCLE, PLEASE! MERCY!" Julian screamed as two massive guards grabbed him by his collar, dragging him backward through the shattered glass into the hallway. His desperate shrieks faded down the grand staircase.
Adrian let out a long, ragged breath, his body shuddering as the shock of his opened wound hit his nervous system. The silver pistol slipped from his hand, clattering onto the Persian rug.
Clara didn't wait for permission. She grabbed her emergency medical bag from the desk, dropped to her knees beside Adrian, and tore open his silk robe.
"You're a fool," Clara said, her hands moving with frantic speed as she applied heavy sterile pads to his bleeding chest. "You just saved my life and destroyed your own surgical repair!"
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Adrian looked down at her small, blood-stained hands working fiercely against his skin. He didn't wince as she applied pressure to the open tear.
"I don't let people die in my room, Clara," Adrian whispered, his dark eyes fixed on her face. "Especially not the girl who saved my life."
