Chapter 5 - The Lockdown at the Gates
The figure in the doorway wasn't Vincent, but one of the estate guards, breathing heavily with a bloody gash across his temple. "Mr. Romano," the guard choked out, leaning against the doorframe for support. "The gates... someone breached the south perimeter wall. A tactical team. They're cutting the power lines as we speak."
Dante lowered his gun by a fraction, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the bleeding man's uniform and the desperate panic in his voice. "How many?" Dante demanded, his voice slicing through the heavy silence of the ransacked guest quarters.
"At least six, sir," the guard gasped, pressing a trembling hand to his bleeding head while wincing from the pain. "They came in through the drainage tunnels near the old pump house. Thomas let them in before I caught him in the courtyard. I had to put him down, but the tactical team is already inside the main foyer and moving fast."
Dante turned his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto mine in the dim moonlight filtering through the broken window. The danger was no longer a theoretical shadow or a distant family feud; it was marching up the grand staircase toward us right now, carrying weapons and intent on erasing every witness.
"Clara," he said, his voice dropping all pretense of the employer-employee barrier, stripping away the harshness of his earlier interrogation. "Take the girls through the panic room behind the library bookcase. There's an underground tunnel leading directly to the stables. A sedan is fueled, packed with emergency supplies, and waiting in the third stall."
"And you?" I asked, my voice catching despite my best efforts to keep it steady. I looked at the dark ink on his hands, the fitted black suit, the man who moments ago was a terrifying stranger and now was the only thing standing between the little girls and the merciless men in the dark.
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"I'm going to welcome my brother's guests," Dante said, a dark, dangerous smile touching the corners of his mouth, devoid of any warmth. He reached out, his warm fingers briefly gripping my bare arm, sending a jolt straight to my chest that had nothing to do with fear. "Run, Clara. Keep them safe. Don't look back."
Before I could reply, the distant sound of shattering glass echoed from the main foyer below, followed by the sharp, undeniable pop of suppressed gunfire that rattled the antique windowpanes. Dante shoved me down the adjoining corridor toward the nursery stairs, turning back into the shadows to meet the war coming through his front door.
