The sound hits first—a concussive blast of splintering wood and shattering glass that reverberates through the marble corridors like thunder trapped underground.
The vibration travels through the marble floor and up through my legs, rattling my teeth and shaking dust from the crown molding overhead.
The guard holding me releases his grip and spins toward the noise, his hand reaching for his weapon, but he never gets it clear of the holster.
A fist connects with his jaw and he drops like a marionette with severed strings.
Luca stands in the wreckage of the hallway, his hair loose around his face, the leather cord that usually holds it back gone. Dark waves fall wild across his forehead and jaw. But it's the gun in his hand that draws most of my attention.
He crosses to me in three strides, his free hand reaching for my face before he's fully closed the distance. For one heartbeat our eyes lock and nothing else matters.
He tilts my chin up with the soft press of a thumb.
His eyes burn black with fury, the gold flecks completely swallowed. His chest heaves with each breath, and that is when I see the blood splatter covering the front of his shirt. From the quick glance I give, I don't think it's his. It is as if he slayed an army to get to me.
A cut above his left eyebrow seeps a thin line of crimson down his temple and into his beard, and he doesn't bother to wipe it away. His fingers wind around jaw, cupping my face with a grip that trembles against my skin.
"Are you hurt, jungle flower? Our baby?" His voice scrapes out rough and desperate, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones, his dark eyes scanning my face and body for damage.
Hot tears roll down my cheeks. "He was going to kill our baby, Luca.” My body trembles with the delayed rush of adrenaline.
Luca struggles to keep his calm. I see it in the way his whole body vibrates from the strength it takes to hold himself in check. “I’ll deal with him,” he finally manages. Are you okay?”
“I'm fine. The baby's fine." I don't pull away from his touch even though every rational thought in my head screams that I should. My body knows his hands before my heart can override the instinct, and right now survival takes precedence over betrayal.
“Where is he?”
“In the study. I think my mother is there with him. We have to help her.” I want to rush to her, but I did that once and look what it got me.
“In a minute. First I need to check you.”
“Tell me again. Were you hit anywhere or are you bleeding?”
I mentally run through the last five minutes of my life. It’s all a blur. “I uh, yes. A guard. He hit me in the ribs.” I don’t feel the pain yet, but I know I will once the adrenaline fully wears off.
“But I turned in time to absorb the blow on my side, away from the baby.”
He hauls me into his arms and presses kisses to the top of my head. “I will kill the fucker who touched you.”
I lean back and look up at him. “You already did.” We both look down at the man with lifeless eyes crumbled on the floor near our feet.
The relief that breaks across his features nearly buckles him. For one second the fury vanishes and all that's left is a man who was terrified of losing us. The fear hasn't finished leaving his eyes.
Behind him, Drake and Kon move through the estate's ground floor with brutal efficiency, breaking off from us to clear rooms and neutralize guards with a violence that is as methodical as it is devastating. Cries of pain are quickly snuffed out with a single blast of a bullet.
Once. The shot echoes against the marble.
Twice.
I swallow against the gurgling sounds coming from down the corridor. The men who put their hands on me are getting what they deserve. I do nothing to stop it. They had no problem hurting my baby so I have no problem with them finding their end.
I can’t help but wonder if that makes me a coldhearted killer as much as Luca and his brothers, but right now I don’t care. That's a deeper thought for later.
From behind Luca I catch the sight of a fourth figure. I don't recognize the man moving through the chaos with an unsettling calm that makes the violence around him look like a normal day in the office.
He's built like Kon but leaner, the family resemblance obvious in the jawline and the dark eyes. But where Kon overwhelms, this man dissects, assessing and dismissing threats like they're beneath his attention.
Where Kon is brute force, this man moves with surgical precision, dispatching guards with a cold efficiency and an expression of absolute boredom. The guards he passes don't fall so much as simply cease to be standing.