Chapter 9 - THE SNIPER'S SHADOWBlood on the Grand Staircase"Down! Get down!" Adrian roared, physically tackling Claire to the marble floor as a second round punched through the mahogany doors behind them, splintering wood into shrapnel.
In the chaos, security guards rushed in, returning fire toward the upper balcony where a muzzle flash flickered in the darkness.
Charles Ashford was scrambling on all fours, trying to crawl toward the service exit, bleeding from a superficial glass cut on his forehead.
"Marcus! Secure Charles!" Adrian shouted over the ringing gunfire, pulling Claire up by her waist and shielding her body with his own as they sprinted toward the armored Mercedes idling at the front portico.
They piled into the back seat, the heavy doors slamming shut just as bullets pinged harmlessly against the bulletproof glass.
"Boss! We got a tracker on the sniper's nest!" Marcus yelled from the driver's seat, burning rubber as he spun the car into a hard J-turn. "It's a professional outfit—mercenaries out of Eastern Europe. They weren't trying to kill us; they were trying to silence Charles before he could name the higher-ups!"
Claire looked out the rear window, her chest heaving as the Lyric Opera House receded into the distance, surrounded by flashing police cruisers and billowing smoke. She touched her face, finding a smudge of soot and dried blood on her cheek.
"They're not going to stop, Adrian," she said, her voice chillingly calm. "As long as Margaret’s research exists, and as long as Sophie and I carry her blood, they’re going to hunt us."
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Adrian reached across the leather console, taking her hand in his. His grip was iron-tight, warm, and unyielding.
"Let them hunt," Adrian whispered, his eyes burning with the cold, absolute fury of a protector who had nothing left to lose. "Because we’re going to hunt them right back."
