Chapter 6 - Fire and Glass
The sound of shattering glass tore through the silence of the night.
I dropped the diary and spun around just as the mansion's alarm system shrieked to life.
Gunfire erupted from the front lawn, a rapid, deafening succession of automatic weapons.
I burst out of Elena's room and sprinted down the hallway toward the nursery.
Smoke was already beginning to curl up from the grand staircase.
Men were shouting in Russian, their heavy boots slamming against the marble floors below.
The Volkov cartel had come.
I threw open the nursery door to find Leo screaming in his crib, terrified by the alarms.
I scooped him up, wrapping him tightly in a thick wool blanket to protect him from the smoke.
"Shh, baby, I have you," I whispered, kissing his forehead as panic consumed me.
The nursery door burst open, and a massive man in tactical gear stepped inside.
He aimed an assault rifle directly at my chest.
"Well, well," the man sneered in a thick Russian accent.
"Dante's little ghost."
I backed away, shielding Leo with my own body, waiting for the bullet that would end it all.
Before the man could pull the trigger, a knife sprouted from his throat.
He collapsed to the floor, choking on his own blood.
Dante stepped over the body, his white dress shirt stained crimson, a gun in each hand.
His eyes were wild, completely devoid of humanity.
"Are you hurt?" he demanded, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the secret servant stairs.
"No," I gasped, holding Leo tightly as we ran down the narrow, dark passageway.
Explosions rocked the foundation of the house, shaking dust from the ceiling.
Dante pushed me into a reinforced panic room hidden beneath the wine cellar.
He locked the heavy steel door behind us, plunging us into total darkness before emergency red lights flickered on.
We were breathing heavily, the sounds of war muffled above us.
Dante looked at me, covered in dust and holding his son like a fierce, protective animal.
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For the first time, he didn't look at me like a ghost.
He looked at me like a woman.
