Chapter 6 - FIRE AND SHADOWSLorenzo stepped out of the panic room threshold, his tactical shotgun raised and locked. I stayed right behind him in the shadows of the bunker door, holding Leo with my left arm while keeping the 9mm pistol gripped firmly in my right hand.
Through the ruined bedroom doorway, three heavily armed men in black tactical gear poured into the room, led by a tall, scarred man in a custom charcoal suit—Victor Vance.
"Victor," Lorenzo greeted, his voice dripping with venom. "You smell like a rat that crawled out of a Chicago sewer."
Victor smirked, stepping over a shattered mahogany nightstand. "Always the dramatist, Lorenzo. Elena tells me you've lost your edge. Spending all your time worrying about a sickly baby and hiding behind cleaning staff."
"Try me," Lorenzo challenged.
Before Victor could raise his weapon, Lorenzo fired. The deafening blast of the tactical shotgun ripped through the room, catching the lead mercenary square in the chest and launching him backward across the bed.
Chaos erupted.
Bullets chewed through the wood paneling and shattered the remaining windows. Shards of glass rained down like diamond dust. Lorenzo ducked behind a reinforced concrete pillar, firing back with lethal precision.
From my position in the panic room doorway, I saw a second mercenary flank around the bed, raising his submachine gun directly toward Lorenzo's exposed side.
Time seemed to slow down.
I remembered Lily. I remembered the cold hospital room, the stairs, the helplessness of watching my world shatter. Then I looked at Leo sleeping soundly against my chest, and at Lorenzo fighting for all of us.
I stepped out of the shadows, raised the 9mm, and pulled the trigger.
Crack!
The bullet struck the mercenary's shoulder, spinning him off balance. He let out a surprised yell and dropped his weapon. Lorenzo didn't hesitate—he spun around and put him down with a single pistol shot.
Lorenzo’s eyes snapped back toward me, wide with shock, before hardening into fierce respect. "Get back in the bunker!" he roared over the gunfire.
Suddenly, a cold metal barrel pressed firmly against the back of my neck.
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"Drop the gun, little maid," a smooth, chilling voice whispered in my ear.
I froze. Elena stepped out from the side alcove of the room, her hand steady as she held a silenced pistol directly to my head, while her other hand reached out to grab the edge of Leo’s blanket.
