The sharp crack of gunfire shattered the silence, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. For a split second, I froze, heart hammering as chaos erupted around the mansion.
"Scarlett, MOVE!" Dominic's barked command broke through the haze, his hand locking around my wrist like a vice. He dragged me down the hall before I could process what was happening. My heels skidded against the polished floor as he yanked me toward a side corridor.
"What's going on?" I gasped, my voice barely audible over the sounds of shouts and distant gunfire.
He didn't answer. His grip tightened, and I could feel the tension radiating off him like heat. Whatever was happening, it was bad. And judging by the way he was dragging me like a rag doll, I was somehow a part of it.
We rounded a corner, and Dominic shoved me into a room, slamming the door behind us. The lock clicked, and he pressed his back against the wood, his breathing measured but intense.
"Stay here." His voice was clipped, each word a command.
I glared at him, the adrenaline and fear bubbling into anger. "Like hell I will. What's happening?"
His dark eyes pinned me in place. "An attack. Stay out of the way."
I stepped forward, defiance flaring. "And what if they come here? What then? Hide under the bed and hope for the best?"
"Don't test me, Scarlett," he growled, his voice dangerously low. "I'm trying to keep you alive."
"Maybe I don't want to live like this," I shot back before I could stop myself. The words hung between us, sharp and cutting.
Dominic's jaw tightened. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—an emotion I couldn't place. Then it was gone, replaced by the cold, calculating man I'd grown to expect.
"Stay here," he repeated, his tone final. Without another word, he turned and unlocked the door. The instant it cracked open, chaos spilled in. Shouts. Running footsteps. Another gunshot. Dominic slipped out and shut the door behind him, leaving me in suffocating silence.
I stood there, fists clenched, anger warring with fear. Stay here? Like hell. If this was the night I died, I wasn't going to do it cowering in some dusty room.
I grabbed a letter opener from the desk—the only weapon I could find—and eased the door open. The hallway was eerily quiet, save for the faint sounds of the skirmish outside. My heart pounded as I crept forward, every nerve screaming at me to turn back. But I couldn't. Something deep in my gut told me I needed to find Dominic.
The sound of heavy footsteps made me freeze. I ducked into an alcove just as two men stormed past, their faces obscured by masks. They carried rifles, their movements deliberate and efficient. My stomach twisted. Whoever they were, they weren't amateurs.
I waited until the hall was clear before moving again. The closer I got to the main wing, the louder the chaos became. The muffled shouts of Dominic's men mixed with the sharp crack of gunfire. My pulse thundered in my ears as I peeked around a corner.
Dominic was there, crouched behind an overturned table with Marco. Both were armed, their focus on the intruders advancing through the foyer. My breath caught as I watched Dominic move, his commands precise, his aim lethal. For a moment, I saw him not as the man who infuriated me but as the ruthless leader he truly was.
And then I saw the man creeping up behind him.
"Dominic, behind you!" The words tore from my throat before I could think. Dominic spun just as the attacker lunged. The two collided, the force knocking Dominic's weapon from his hand.
Without hesitation, I bolted into the fray. Dominic fought with brutal efficiency, but the attacker was relentless. Marco was too far to help. My fingers tightened around the letter opener as I closed the distance.
The attacker raised his weapon, and I didn't think. I just acted.
With a scream, I drove the blade into his side. He cried out, the sound guttural and pained. Dominic took advantage of the distraction, delivering a blow that sent the man crumpling to the floor.
I stumbled back, my chest heaving. Blood stained the makeshift weapon in my hand, and nausea churned in my stomach. Dominic turned to me, his expression unreadable.
"Scarlett," he said, his voice low, almost... soft.
I shook my head, unable to speak. My hands trembled as I dropped the letter opener.
"You saved my life," he said, as if the realization surprised him.
"Don't read too much into it," I managed, my voice shaky but defiant.
His lips quirked in the faintest hint of a smile. But before either of us could say more, a sharp sound cut through the air. A single, deafening crack.
Dominic's eyes widened. "Get down!" he shouted, grabbing my arm and pulling me to the floor.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I looked up. A figure stood on the balcony above, a rifle aimed directly at me. Time seemed to slow as the sniper adjusted his position. I froze, fear rooting me in place.
Dominic's grip tightened. "Scarlett, move!"
But I couldn't. I could only watch as the sniper's finger tightened on the trigger.