Chapter 12 - The Ambush
|
Dante did not return before dawn. He didn't return for two days.
The estate was on high lockdown. Heavily armed guards patrolled the perimeter, and Silas refused to let me even step out onto the balcony. The war with Volkov had officially begun.
On the third afternoon, Dante finally returned. He looked exhausted, his suit wrinkled, dark circles beneath his eyes. But he smiled when he saw me waiting in the foyer.
“I need to get out of this house,” Dante said, wrapping his arms around me in a crushing hug. “Get your coat. I want to show you the city in the daylight.”
“Is it safe?” I asked, hesitating.
“I have three armored SUVs and twelve men coming with us,” Dante assured me, grabbing my hand. “You are perfectly safe.”
We drove into the heart of Chicago. For an hour, we simply acted like a normal couple. We walked through a private, secured art gallery that Dante had rented out entirely for the afternoon. It was peaceful, beautiful, and a desperate illusion of normalcy.
As we left the gallery and walked toward the idling convoy, the illusion shattered.
It happened in a fraction of a second. A heavy garbage truck suddenly pulled out from an alleyway, accelerating violently and slamming directly into the lead SUV of our convoy. The impact sounded like a bomb going off.
“Ambush!” Silas roared, drawing his weapon and throwing himself in front of us.
Gunfire erupted from the rooftops across the street. Automatic weapon fire shredded the windows of the remaining SUVs. Screams echoed through the busy downtown street as civilians scattered in terror.
Dante didn't hesitate. He grabbed me by the waist, threw me violently to the pavement, and covered my body entirely with his own.
“Stay down!” he roared in my ear as bullets sparked against the concrete inches from our heads.
Dante drew his pistol, firing blindly toward the rooftops while simultaneously dragging me behind the heavy steel frame of the center SUV. His men were engaging in a brutal, bloody firefight with Volkov’s assassins.
“We are pinned down!” Silas yelled over the deafening noise, bleeding from a graze on his cheek.
Dante looked at me, his eyes wide with a terrifying, protective fury. “I’m getting you out of here, Emma. When I say move, you run to the alley behind us. I will cover you.”
“I am not leaving you!” I screamed, gripping his coat.
May you like
Before he could argue, a loud crack echoed, and Dante jerked violently. He let out a sharp, guttural grunt, collapsing heavily against the side of the car.
“Dante!” I shrieked, seeing the dark, rapid stain of blood spreading across the shoulder of his suit jacket.
