Chapter 12 - Darkness Falls
The hum of the manor's climate control died instantly, leaving only the sound of heavy rain lashing against the leaded glass windows.
Christian reacted without a second’s hesitation. He dropped his glass—it shattered across the hardwood floor—and yanked Clara against his chest, pulling her behind the heavy mahogany desk.
""Stay down,"" he commanded in a sharp whisper.
""The storm?"" Clara gasped, her hands clutching his damp shirt.
""The estate runs on two independent underground diesel generators,"" Christian said, his voice cold and analytical. ""A power grid failure doesn't trip this house. The main lines were cut.""
Clara’s blood ran cold. ""Lily! She’s alone in the nursery!""
""Julian is outside her door,"" Christian assured her, pulling a compact Glock from a concealed holster beneath his shoulder. ""Julian was British Special Air Service before he came to my father. No one gets into that room. But they aren't here for Lily right now. They're here to isolate us.""
A sharp pop echoed from the floor below, followed by the muffled thud of a suppressed gunshot.
Christian pulled his radio from his belt. ""Julian, status.""
Static crackled, followed by Julian's calm, clipped voice. ""Three hostiles down in the east foyer, sir. They breached through the wine cellar. But there are more on the grounds. They're professional mercenaries, not street thugs.""
""Get Clara and Lily to the panic vault beneath the library,"" Christian ordered, racking the slide of his weapon with a sharp metallic clack. ""I’ll draw them toward the west wing.""
""No!"" Clara grabbed his forearm, her nails digging through the fabric of his shirt. ""Christian, don't go out there! If Marcus wants me, let me face him—""
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Christian grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her forehead against his in the pitch black. His breath was warm against her trembling lips. ""Listen to me, Clara. You are my wife now. In this family, we don't surrender what is ours. Run to Julian. Now!""
He pushed her toward the concealed servant door behind the bookcase just as the study's heavy oak doors burst inward off their hinges.
