Chapter 5 - The Final Siege
"Get down!" Marcus roared, drawing his weapon in a fraction of a second and shoving Luca, Marco, and Nico behind a heavy marble pillar.
Damen moved with the speed of a striking viper. He vaulted over the sofa, grabbing Evelyn by the waist and pulling her down behind the reinforced mahogany bar just as a hail of bullets ripped through the glass windows of the ballroom.
"Who is it?!" Evelyn demanded, her heart hammering against her ribs, not for herself, but for her sons.
"Remnants of Vincent’s crew," Damen growled, his eyes flashing with deadly, atomic fury. "They think that by eliminating me and seizing the leadership, they can reclaim the terminals before the receivership takes effect."
Four masked enforcers poured through the shattered double doors, automatic weapons raised, sweeping the ballroom for targets.
Marcus returned fire instantly, neutralizing the first enforcer with a precise double-tap to the chest. The second enforcer dove behind a pillar, returning suppressive fire.
Damen drew his own black 9mm pistol from his shoulder holster, checking the clip with practiced, lethal efficiency. He looked down at Evelyn, his hand gently brushing her cheek.
"Stay behind this bar," Damen commanded softly. "Protect our boys."
"Damen, wait—"
"I told you I would earn your trust," Damen whispered, a fierce, protective smile touching his lips. "Let me start tonight."
Before Evelyn could argue, Damen rolled out from behind the bar, firing two rapid shots through the smoke. The second enforcer dropped instantly.
The remaining two mercenaries panicked, splitting up to flank the room. One of them charged toward the eastern gallery—directly toward the pillar where the triplets were hiding.
Luca grabbed a heavy bronze candleholder. Marco picked up a metal tray. Nico screamed at the top of his lungs, "Intruders in the perimeter! Deploy defensive countermeasures!"
Before the enforcer could raise his weapon, Marcus tackled him hard to the marble floor, disarming him with a brutal crack.
The final enforcer raised his rifle toward the bar where Evelyn knelt.
BANG.
Damen’s bullet struck the gunman’s shoulder, spinning him around before he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Silence returned to the grand ballroom, broken only by the acrid smell of gunpowder and the distant wailing of police sirens echoing down Fifth Avenue.
Damen walked back across the blood-spattered marble floor, his suit jacket torn at the shoulder, his hands steady. He knelt down beside the pillar where the three boys were peeking out from behind Marcus.
Nico looked at Damen’s smoking gun, then up at his face.
"Your aim is acceptable," Nico announced solemnly. "Though screaming 'countermeasures' definitely helped distract him."
Luca nodded in agreement. "Statistically, the tactical retreat behind the marble pillar was our most effective defensive maneuver."
Marco pointed to Damen’s torn shoulder. "You're bleeding. You need antiseptic and a bandage immediately. Otherwise, infection rates increase by fourteen percent."
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Damen stared at his three sons. A sound halfway between a laugh and a sob escaped his throat. He looked up at Evelyn, who walked slowly out from behind the bar, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"They're definitely your sons," Evelyn whispered.
