Chapter 7 - The Traitor's Reckoning
"Stay here," I snarled at Elena, shoving Marcus into the corner behind the heavy mahogany table.
I drew my spare pistol from my ankle holster, checking the clip in the dim emergency light. Fourteen rounds. More than enough.
"Luca, wait!" Elena grabbed my arm. "You can't just run out there. They know the layout. Marcus gave them the blueprints weeks ago!"
I ripped my arm away, my eyes blazing. "Then I'll rewrite the layout in blood."
I kicked open the conference room door and stepped out into the dark corridor. Smoke was billowing from the grand foyer. Glass from the shattered stained-glass windows crunched beneath my boots.
Two masked gunmen rounded the corner near the East Wing gallery, their assault rifles raised.
I didn't hesitate. Two controlled shots—bang, bang—dropped the lead mercenary before he could even shoulder his weapon. The second man dived behind a marble pillar, blindly spraying bullets down the hallway. Chunks of plaster rained down on my head.
I rolled to the left, using the heavy oak frame of a portrait as cover, and put a round straight through the center of the pillar, catching the second gunman through the wood.
"Boss! Sector two is holding, but they're using thermal breaches on the front doors!" Tony’s voice barked over the comms, punctuated by the heavy thud of shotgun blasts.
"Fall back to the nursery stairwell!" I ordered, sprinting back toward the private residential wing. "Protect Matteo at all costs!"
When I reached the East Wing conference room, the door was half-splintered. Elena was standing defensively in front of the threshold, holding a heavy brass fireplace poker, while Marcus cowered in the corner like a whipped dog.
"The front entrance is gone," Elena said quickly as I grabbed her shoulder and pulled her behind me. "They're coming through the main hall."
"We're not waiting for them to come to us," I said. I looked down at Marcus, who was shaking so violently his teeth were chattering. "Get up."
"I... I can't," Marcus whimpered.
May you like
I grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to his feet, shoving him toward the service elevator at the end of the hall—the private lift that led directly down to the underground armory and the reinforced panic shelter.
"You wanted my empire, Marcus?" I whispered in his ear, pushing the barrel of my gun into his spine as we moved. "Let's see how well you defend it."
