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Chapter 19 - The Stand

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The gunfire in the hallway stopped, replaced by the heavy, rhythmic thud of boots crunching on the broken glass.

“Spread out. Find the girl,” a gruff, heavily accented voice barked from the corridor. “The boss wants her alive to sign the checks, but he didn't say she had to be walking.”

I clamped my hand over my mouth to muffle a sob of terror. I looked at Julian. His face was a mask of cold, lethal calculation. He checked the magazine of his weapon, sliding a round into the chamber with a quiet, metallic click.

“Julian,” I whispered frantically. “You don't have to die for this. This is my fight.”

He looked at me, a fierce, dark smile touching the corners of his mouth. “I told you, Claire. I don't betray my partners.”

A shadow fell across the shattered doorway of the office.

Julian moved with terrifying speed. He popped up from behind the desk, firing three rapid, suppressed shots. The man in the doorway grunted, collapsing backward into the hallway before he could even raise his weapon.

“They’re in the office!” another voice yelled from outside.

Bullets ripped through the mahogany desk, sending splinters of wood flying into my hair. Julian pulled me flat against the floor, covering my body with his own as the office was systematically shredded by automatic gunfire.

The computer monitors exploded. The champagne flutes on the balcony shattered. The empire I had just built was being destroyed in seconds.

“We have to move!” Julian yelled over the deafening noise. “The desk won't hold!”

He grabbed my hand, pulling me into a low crawl toward the reinforced steel door of my private panic room, disguised as a bookshelf in the corner of the office. I had installed it as a corporate safety measure, never actually believing I would use it.

More shadows poured into the room. Julian fired blindly over his shoulder, providing covering fire as I scrambled toward the bookshelf.

I hit the hidden panel. The heavy steel door popped open.

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“Go!” Julian yelled, shoving me inside the dark, reinforced box.

He backed in right behind me, firing one last shot into the office before grabbing the heavy steel handle and pulling the panic door shut. The heavy deadbolts locked into place with a resounding, metallic clack, sealing us inside the pitch-black room just as bullets began ricocheting off the outer steel plate.

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