Chapter 4 - The Price of Blood
Time seemed to fracture. Lorenzo was too far to reach them, his weapon empty on the last clip. The mercenary's finger tightened on the trigger.
In a blinding blur of charcoal fur and raw muscle, Grimm launched himself off the back of the fallen mercenary, intercepting the line of fire just as the gun went off. A wet, sickening thud echoed through the penthouse.
"No!" Nina screamed, dropping to her knees as the dog crashed to the floor, blood pooling rapidly against the white marble.
The mercenary didn't have time to smile. Lorenzo closed the distance in three lethal strides, pressing the barrel of his gun against the leader's forehead and pulling the trigger without a word.
The penthouse fell deathly silent, save for the crackle of distant flames from the hallway.
Nina crawled through the spreading red pool, gathering the massive, heavy head into her lap. Her hands were soaked in warm blood, her black uniform ruined. "Ghost. Look at me. Stay with me."
The dog’s heavy eyelids fluttered. A thick, warm breath brushed against her wrist. He wasn't dead—not yet—but the bullet had grazed deep across his shoulder, missing his heart by inches.
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Lorenzo dropped down beside them, his cold exterior cracking just enough to reveal the calculating mind underneath. He ripped a strip of fabric from his own shirt, pressing it hard against the wound.
"He's tough," Lorenzo said, his voice unusually steady. "Bred from fighting stock, but he has your heart. Maria! Bring the medical kit from the safe room. Now!"
