Chapter 2 - The Glass and the GunfireThe deafening crack of shattering glass filled the bedroom as Adrien moved with terrifying, lightning speed.
Before the bullet could hit the wall behind me, Adrien tackled my body off the bed, shielding me with his massive frame as we crashed onto the hardwood floor behind a heavy oak chest.
“Marco! Down!” Adrien roared over the sound of automatic gunfire tearing through the room.
More bullets shredded the heavy velvet curtains, splintering the wooden furniture into thousands of sharp flying fragments. Adrien held me tightly against his chest, his arms locked like iron around my waist, his heart beating a steady, calm rhythm against my cheek.
“Are you hit?” he demanded, his eyes scanning my face for blood.
“No... no...” I choked out, terrified beyond measure, clutching his shirt.
Marco dropped onto his stomach near the doorway, pulling a heavy tactical pistol from his shoulder holster, returning suppressive fire through the shattered window frame toward the dark skyline across the street.
“It’s a long-range team!” Marco shouted over the gunfire. “They knew we were at the safehouse!”
Adrien pulled a sleek black firearm from beneath his waistband, racking the slide with a single, practiced motion. He reached into his coat pocket, grabbed the scratched photograph Marco had brought, and shoved it deep into my dress pocket.
“Hold onto that, Lena,” he commanded, looking directly into my eyes. “Do not let anyone take it.”
“Adrien... who is shooting at us?!” I screamed, the sound of glass crunching beneath his boots as he shifted his weight.
“People who thought you died fifteen years ago,” he answered grimly.
Adrien raised his arm, firing three precision shots through the window, forcing the sniper across the street to pause. Without missing a beat, he scooped me into his arms, using the oak furniture as cover, and rushed out into the heavy stone hallway.
Four armed Viscari guards in tactical suits met us in the corridor, weapons raised, creating a moving perimeter around us.
“Clear the underground garage!” Adrien barked to his men. “We’re moving to the estate in Long Island!”
We rushed down a hidden spiral staircase behind a bookshelf, descending three stories beneath the private club into a concrete basement garage. A bulletproof black SUV sat idling, its engine rumbling like a predator in the dark.
Adrien slid into the leather back seat, keeping me pressed low against his side as the SUV roared out of the garage, tires screeching against the wet pavement.
As we sped away into the dark, rain-slicked streets of Manhattan, I looked out the tinted rear window. Two black sedans pulled out from an alleyway, their headlights cutting through the fog, giving chase.
“They’re on us, Boss,” Marco called out from the front passenger seat, checking the rear-view camera display.
Adrien didn't flinch. He reached out, gently taking my shaking hands into his large, warm palms, inspecting the bandages Dr. Bell had wrapped around my wrists.
“They’re not going to reach us, Lena,” Adrien promised softly, his voice full of an absolute, dangerous authority. “No one touches what belongs in my house.”
“I don't belong to you, Adrien,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
May you like
He looked at me, his dark eyes reflecting the passing city lights.
“Your mother was Elena Viscari,” Adrien revealed quietly. “My father’s sister. You are my cousin, Lena. And you are the sole legal heir to half of this empire.”
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