Chapter 6 - Blood on the Catwalk
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I closed the distance between us in a fraction of a second, grabbing Sophia’s wrist and twisting it upward just as a gunshot echoed through the cavernous hall.
The bullet shattered a light fixture high above us, sending sparks raining down into the darkness.
Sophia shrieked, striking me across the face with her free hand, her fingernails tearing across my cheek. She was deceptively strong, fueled by decades of unadulterated madness.
We crashed into the concrete floor, rolling over the slick surface as I fought to gain control of the revolver.
“Marco! Now!” I yelled into my earpiece.
High above on the catwalks, silenced gunshots snapped through the air. Two of Sophia’s hidden guards fell from the scaffolding, crashing into the dark water channels below with loud splashes.
I pinned Sophia’s arm to the floor, forcing her fingers to release the weapon. I kicked the gun away across the room.
Sophia glared up at me, panting heavily, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “It doesn't matter, Adrian! You’re too late! Look at her!”
I turned my head. Grace had collapsed sideways in her chair, her knees drawn up, her face twisted in agonizing pain as her water broke completely, splashing onto the cold concrete.
I ignored Sophia, leaving her for Marco and Bellini who were rushing through the main doors, and ran to my wife’s side.
I pulled a pocket knife from my belt and sliced through the ropes binding Grace’s wrists and ankles.
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The moment her hands were free, she threw her arms around my neck, clinging to me with every ounce of strength she had left.
“Adrian... get him out...” she sobbed into my shoulder. “Please... get our boy out.”
