Chapter 3 - The Shattered Gala
Julian gasped as cartilage crunched under the blow, stumbling backward into a marble console table. The gun clattered across the carpet.
Victoria shrieked, lunging forward, but Mark was faster. He caught her wrist, twisting the chain out of her grasp with savage precision. She stumbled into the bed, her white dress rustling like dry autumn leaves.
""Daddy!"" Lily screamed.
Mark dove for the gun, scooping the heavy nine-millimeter off the floor, and spun around. Julian was already scrambling to his feet, wheezing, pulling a secondary knife from his jacket sleeve. Outside the suite, heavy footsteps pounded against the carpeted hallway—private security.
""Unlock her!"" Mark bellowed, pointing the weapon straight at Victoria. ""The key, Victoria! Now!""
Victoria backed away against the headboard, her pristine facade cracking into sheer panic. She reached into her bodice, pulled out the brass key, and hurled it into the bathroom. It slid beneath the heavy clawfoot tub with a metallic ring.
The suite doors burst open. Three men in matching black tactical suits entered, weapons drawn.
""Drop it!"" one shouted.
Mark didn't hesitate. He grabbed the heavy brass table lamp off the nightstand, hurled it straight through the full-length panoramic window, and grabbed Lily off the floor. Glass showered inward and outward, cold city air roaring into the heated suite. The chain dragged heavily from Lily’s ankle, clanking against the floorboards.
""Hold onto my neck, baby!"" Mark shouted over the gale-force wind blowing through the suite. ""Hold tight!""
""Don't let them reach the terrace!"" Julian wheezed, pointing toward the shattered glass.
Gunfire erupted, tearing through the silk drapes and velvet headboard. Mark shielded Lily with his body, diving through the open frame onto the concrete service terrace that wrapped around the fifteenth floor. Bullets chipped the stone masonry above his head.
Running with a thirty-pound child and four feet of trailing steel chain was agony. Every step pulled at Lily’s bruised skin, but she bit her lip, burying her face into his shoulder. Ahead lay the service elevator used by hotel caterers, its cage doors standing half-open.
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Mark hurled himself inside and jammed the emergency drop lever. The heavy iron cage rattled, plunging down the shaft just as the security team rounded the corner, their bullets sparking uselessly against the descending steel roof.
As the elevator plunged into darkness, Mark collapsed onto the metal grating, cradling Lily. But when he reached down to comfort her, his fingers brushed against sticky, hot liquid soaking through her dress.
