Chapter 2 - The Crossfire.A high-caliber bullet embedded itself into the mahogany frame of the grand piano.
"Get down!" Ethan roared.
He tackled Rosa and Lily to the floor just as a second suppressed shot ripped through the space where Rosa's head had been a fraction of a second earlier.
Rosa screamed, wrapping her body entirely over her sobbing daughter.
Ethan scrambled across the broken glass, ignoring the sharp pain in his palms.
He reached under the piano bench and pressed a hidden biometric scanner embedded in the wood.
A secret compartment sprang open, revealing a matte-black Glock 19 and two spare magazines.
"You have a gun in your piano?" Rosa gasped in horror.
"I have a gun in every room," Ethan replied coldly.
He racked the slide with practiced, lethal efficiency.
"Stay behind me and keep your head below the window line."
Footsteps echoed from the main hallway.
They were heavy, synchronized, and completely devoid of hesitation.
These were not local thugs; they were professional tier-one operators.
Victoria had not just called off a wedding; she had ordered a hit.
Ethan peeked around the edge of the doorway.
Two men dressed in tactical black gear were sweeping the corridor with suppressed assault rifles.
Ethan didn't hesitate.
He stepped out of cover, raised his weapon, and fired three rapid shots.
The first man dropped instantly, a bullet catching him directly in the chest plate and throwing him backward.
The second man returned fire, chewing up the plaster wall inches from Ethan’s face.
Dust and debris rained down as Ethan ducked back into the parlor.
"We can't stay here," Ethan yelled over the deafening sound of gunfire.
"There's a panic room beneath the wine cellar," he instructed.
"Can you run?" he asked Rosa.
Rosa looked down at Lily, who was trembling violently but uninjured.
A fierce, maternal adrenaline flooded Rosa's veins, erasing all her fear.
"I can run," Rosa declared fiercely.
"On three," Ethan commanded.
He blindly fired two suppressing shots around the corner to keep the remaining attacker pinned.
"One."
He swapped his half-empty magazine for a fresh one.
"Two."
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He grabbed Rosa’s hand, his grip like iron.
"Three!"
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