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THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE CUT THE PREGNANT MAID'S HAIR IN FRONT OF FORTY GUESTS AND LEARNED TOO LATE WHO THE BABY'S FATHER REALLY WAS / Chapter 6 / 8

Chapter 6 - Blood on the MarbleAutomatic gunfire shredded the antique bookshelves in the grand hallway.

Daniel rolled across the hardwood floor, returning fire with lethal, military-precision accuracy. Two of Julian Thorne’s elite mercenaries dropped instantly, their black tactical gear staining crimson against the imported Italian marble.

"Push forward!" a voice screamed from the corridor.

Julian Thorne stepped into the foyer holding a suppressed submachine gun, his designer suit splattered with dust and plaster. Behind him, three more heavily armed men flanked the staircase.

"Looking for someone, Daniel?" Julian sneered, raising his weapon. "Arthur sends his regards. And as for your little pregnant girlfriend in the study—let’s just say collateral damage is a bitch."

Daniel’s eyes flared with pure, unadulterated homicide. He lunged from behind a marble pillar, squeezing the trigger until the slide locked back on an empty chamber. One mercenary went down with a round to the chest, but Julian ducked behind the reinforced stone balustrade of the grand staircase, firing a burst that clipped Daniel’s left shoulder.

Hot blood soaked through Daniel’s charcoal shirt, but he didn't even flinch. Adrenaline and rage fueled every muscle in his body. He discarded the empty firearm, his hand dropping to the tactical combat knife strapped to his thigh.

"You picked the wrong house, Julian," Daniel growled, advancing step by relentless step.

Before Julian could raise his submachine gun again, a heavy silver candlestick came whistling out of nowhere, catching Julian squarely across the temple with a sickening crunch.

Julian staggered backward, dropping his weapon.

Martin Hale stood at the top of the stairs, breathing heavily, holding a bloodied silver candelabra like a medieval club.

"Nobody," Martin panted, his gray eyes flashing with cold fury, "messes with the master’s household."

Daniel didn't hesitate. He closed the distance in a fraction of a second, grabbing Julian by the collar of his ruined suit and slamming him against the stone pillar with enough force to crack the drywall.

"Where is Arthur?" Daniel demanded, pressing the blade against Julian’s throat.

Julian coughed up blood, a manic, bloody grin spreading across his face. "Too late... Carver. Arthur’s already at the airstrip. And your little maid... she’s not alone in that study."

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The heavy mahogany door of the dressing room seemed to close in on us, trapping the suffocating tension inside. Richard’s hands were shaking as he clutched the small, tarnished silver pendant. His knuckles were bone-white.

The heavy mahogany door of the dressing room seemed to close in on us, t...

The heavy silver fork slipped from my fingers, clattering sharply against the gold-rimmed porcelain of my dinner plate.

The heavy silver fork slipped from my fingers, clattering sharply agains...

The heavy mahogany door of the Fairmont Copley suite clicked shut with a muffled, expensive thud.

The heavy mahogany door of the Fairmont Copley suite clicked shut with a...

Daniel’s blood ran ice cold.

The back entrance.

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