Chapter 6 - Blood on the Asphalt
The sharp smell of deployed airbags and burning rubber choked Elena's throat. Her ears rang violently.
Alexander was bleeding from a gash along his hairline, crimson dripping down his sculpted cheek, but his eyes were wide, alert, and deadly. He didn't waste a second asking if she was okay; he gripped her arm and kicked the warped car door open with explosive force.
""Stay behind me and stay low,"" he barked, pulling a silenced handgun from a hidden compartment beneath the rear seat.
Through the pouring rain, heavy boots splashed on the asphalt. Three men dressed in black tactical gear advanced through the smoke, submachine guns raised. They weren't street thugs—they moved with military formation. Senator Ward’s private cleanup crew.
""De Ville! Hand over the girl, and the Senator might let you keep your empire!"" one of them shouted over the howling storm.
Alexander fired three rapid shots without emerging completely from the chassis. A sharp grunt echoed through the night as the lead shooter collapsed, clutching his shattered kneecap.
""I don't bargain with errand boys,"" Alexander muttered under his breath. He shoved a small keycard into Elena’s palm. ""Behind the tree line, fifty yards east. There is an emergency utility cabin for the highway department. Go. Now.""
""I can't leave you!"" Elena protested, terror gripping her chest.
""You stay here, and we both die!"" Alexander shouted, shoving her toward the tree line just as a barrage of bullets ripped through the Maybach's metal frame.
Elena ran. Cold rain soaked through her champagne dress, mud sucking at her heels until she kicked them off, sprinting barefoot over wet pine needles and sharp stones. Gunfire erupted behind her—hollow cracks of pistols against the heavy rhythm of automatic weapons.
She reached the utility shed, her hands slick with mud as she swiped the keycard. The magnetic lock beeped and clicked green. She scrambled inside, slamming the steel door shut and bolting the heavy manual latch.
Silence fell inside the dark, dusty shed, broken only by her ragged breathing.
Outside, the gunfire suddenly stopped.
Minutes crawled by. The rain drummed against the corrugated metal roof like thousands of tiny nails. Then, heavy, dragging steps approached the door.
Elena grabbed a rusty crowbar from the tool rack, raising it above her head, trembling with every fiber of her being.
A weak knock sounded on the steel panel.
May you like
""Elena..."" Alexander’s voice was hoarse, fading. ""Open the damn door.""
She threw the bolts back. Alexander tumbled inside, clutching his side. His tailored black suit was soaked in dark, spreading blood.
