Chapter 8 - The Siege
The tranquility of the estate exploded at 3:15 AM.
A massive explosion rocked the east wing, shattering the stained-glass windows in the main hall. Alarm sirens blared through the corridors, turning the interior lights into a pulsing red haze.
"Boss!" Marcus burst into the study, a tactical rifle slung across his chest, blood dripping from a cut on his temple. "They breached the perimeter! Vance brought three armored trucks through the south gate! They cut the power grids!"
Harlan was on his feet in a second, pulling a heavy black handgun from a hidden drawer beneath his desk.
"Where is Belle?" Harlan demanded.
"She’s in the panic room with two guards!" Marcus shouted over the sound of automatic gunfire echoing from the floor below. "They're pushing toward the west wing! They want the girl and Miss Callaway!"
Harlan turned to me, his hands grabbing my shoulders with fierce intensity. "Rue, take the service elevator down to the basement vault. Marcus will lead you to the subterranean tunnel that exits two blocks away."
"No!" I yelled, grabbing his jacket. "I'm not leaving Belle! And I'm not leaving you!"
"Rue, this isn't a conversation!" Harlan roared, his face inches from mine. "Vance came to finish this! I need to know you are safe!"
"I am Belle's guardian!" I screamed back, refusing to back down. "I signed the contract! I stay!"
Harlan stared at me, a mixture of shock, awe, and desperate affection washing over his sharp features. Without a word, he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me into a fierce, breathless kiss. His lips were hot, demanding, and filled with a raw intensity that made my knees go weak.
When he pulled back, his grey eyes were burning.
"If we survive tonight," he whispered against my lips, "you are never leaving this house again."
"Deal," I gasped.
"Marcus!" Harlan barked, racking the slide of his pistol. "Cover the staircase! Rue, stay behind me!"
We rushed down the long corridor as smoke filled the grand hallway. Men in black tactical gear were pushing up the stairs, but Harlan moved like a force of nature. He fired with lethal, terrifying precision, driving Vance’s mercenaries back down the marble steps.
I stayed close to his back, grabbing a heavy brass candlestick from a side table. When a shooter breached the side door behind us, I didn't hesitate—I swung the candlestick with all my strength, striking him square across the helmet and knocking him down the stairs.
Harlan shot me a quick, dark grin over his shoulder. "Remind me never to late-bill you at your diner."
"Focus, Voss!" I yelled.
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Suddenly, the heavy front doors were blown off their hinges with a deafening boom. Through the smoke stepped Viktor Vance, wearing a heavy bulletproof vest and holding an assault rifle, backed by ten heavily armed men.
"Harlan!" Vance shouted, his voice echoing through the burning hall. "It’s over! Give me the girl and the Callaway heir, and I'll let you bleed out in peace!"
