Chapter 11 - The Ambush


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The ballroom was a warzone of flashing muzzle bursts and shattering glass.
Aliyah pressed herself flat against the carpet, her ears ringing from the concussive blasts. Victor was a heavy, protective shield covering her completely, his body completely rigid as he drew a weapon from his shoulder holster.
"Stay exactly where you are," Victor ordered, his voice remarkably calm amidst the slaughter.
He rolled off her, returning fire into the darkness with terrifying precision. Screams echoed as hitmen dropped under his lethal accuracy.
Suddenly, a heavy body crashed to the floor right beside Aliyah.
"Boss," a voice choked out, wet and agonizing.
It was Mikhail. The underboss who had called her a liability was clutching his throat, blood pulsing rapidly between his fingers. A stray bullet had caught his carotid artery. He was bleeding out in seconds.
Aliyah didn't hesitate. The terrified waitress vanished, and the trauma nurse took over.
She scrambled out from under the table, ignoring the bullets zipping through the dark air above her head. She tore the silk fabric of her expensive emerald gown, ripping a long strip from the hem.
"Aliyah! Get back under the table!" Victor roared, seeing her move in the muzzle flashes.
"He's bleeding out!" she screamed back.
She threw herself over Mikhail’s thrashing body. She jammed her bare hands directly into his neck wound, using her fingers to pinch the severed artery, and shoved the wadded silk against it with all her body weight.
"Hold still, Mikhail!" she ordered, her hands slick with hot blood.
Victor saw what she was doing. He didn't pull her away. Instead, he stepped directly in front of her, absorbing the space, acting as a human barricade against the incoming fire. He became a wall of absolute death, ensuring no bullet came near the woman saving his man.
"Clear the room!" Silas’s voice boomed as Victor’s backup security finally breached the doors with heavy tactical flashlights.
The remaining assassins fled, realizing the hit had failed. The emergency lights flickered on, casting a sickly red glow over the ruined ballroom.
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Aliyah remained on her knees, covered in Mikhail’s blood, holding the pressure until the paramedics rushed through the doors. She fell back, exhausted, staring at her crimson-stained hands.
Victor dropped his gun, fell to his knees in the broken glass, and pulled her fiercely into his arms.