SHATTERED CHAINS OF BETRAYAL

Julian fired without thinking.

Two rounds hit the left guard in the chest, the kinetic impact slamming the armed contractor back into the heavy oak bookshelves, sending centuries of leather-bound volumes raining down in a cloud of paper and dust.

The second guard dropped into a combat crouch, sweeping his submachine gun toward Julian. Julian dove sideways behind an antique mahogany card table, wood splintering violently under the hail of nine-millimeter rounds. Ceramic vases and crystal lamps shattered across the floor in a flurry of sparks and debris.

""Kill him!"" Eleanor’s voice lost all its aristocratic calm, screeching into an ugly, piercing shriek. ""Kill him now!""

Julian rolled onto his stomach, pushing the wreckage of a heavy armchair forward for cover. He reached around the upholstery blind, firing three controlled bursts. The second mercenary staggered back, clutching his throat as his weapon clattered across the parquet floor, his boots drumming briefly against the wood before falling still.

Julian surged to his feet, racking the bolt of the carbine.

Eleanor had already retreated into the doorway of the safe room, her hand darting inside her overcoat. She pulled a compact silver automatic, aiming it straight toward the dark interior where Lily was hiding.

""Don't move, Julian!"" Eleanor screamed, her face contorted with madness. ""One more step and the Vance line ends right now!""

Julian froze, the carbine raised, his breath tearing through his chest in burning gasps. The scent of cordite and burning steel hung heavy in the air.

""Put the gun down, Mother,"" a voice called out from the dark gallery behind them.

Claire stood framed in the double doors of the library.

She was bruised, pale as death, her clothes torn and covered in soot. But her posture was rigid, her feet planted wide on the hardwood. In her trembling hands, she held the service weapon Julian had left with her, both arms locked, pointing the barrel straight at Eleanor's head.

Eleanor turned slowly, her eyes wide with disbelief. ""Claire... you can barely stand. You don't have the stomach to pull that trigger.""