Chapter 3 - The Perimeter Falls
The wailing siren cut through the room like a serrated blade. Titan instantly bolted to his feet, ears pinned back, his throat vibrating with an aggressive, rhythmic rumble. Red strobe lights bathed the polished floor in crimson hues.
Julian didn’t flinch. His reaction was terrifyingly calm. He set his whiskey glass down without spilling a drop and tapped an earpiece nestled in his ear. “Report.”
“Breach at the southern gate, sir,” a voice crackled through the comms, punctuated by the unmistakable staccato of automatic gunfire. “Black SUVs. Heavy tactical gear. They didn’t come to talk—they just blew the gate with C4.”
Julian’s gaze flicked back to Elena. The warmth in his eyes was gone entirely, replaced by ruthless calculation. “Did they follow you?”
“I took three different taxis and checked my mirrors every mile!” Elena shouted over the rising volume of gunfire outside. “I am a chef, not an operative!”
“Someone knew you came here,” Julian said coldly. He pulled open a hidden drawer beneath the desk and withdrew two sleek semi-automatic pistols, sliding one across the wood toward her. “Pick it up.”
“I don’t shoot guns,” she protested, stepping back.
“Then you die in this study,” Julian replied, racking the slide on his own weapon with practiced ease. “Titan! Heel.”
The giant mastiff positioned himself at Julian’s left hip, every muscle coiled like a spring. The crash of breaking glass echoed from the gallery downstairs, accompanied by the muffled screams of security personnel and the thud of suppressed gunfire.
Julian grabbed Elena by the wrist, his grip like iron, and dragged her toward a decorative wood panel behind the bookshelf. He pressed a recessed panel, and a narrow stone stairwell appeared in the wall.
“Go down,” he commanded. “The safe room is three levels below ground.”
“What about the key?” Elena demanded, clutching the silver talisman against her chest. “Who is attacking us?”
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“The same people who set Marcus’s car on fire,” Julian whispered, his jaw clenched as boot steps thudded rapidly down the upper corridor. “And they don’t want Marcus’s ghost coming back to claim what is buried beneath this house.”
A heavy boot kicked the mahogany door off its hinges with a splintering crash. Julian shoved Elena into the darkness of the passage just as a volley of rounds shredded the wooden doorframe, the muzzle flashes blinding against the shadowed study.
