Page 114 of Auctioned Innocence
After he leaves, Sofia and I continue our preparations. Weapons, ammunition, emergency supplies, the new identities Mario provided. We’ve become expert at this—the rapid packing of lives that exist in the spaces between official recognition.
“Ready?” I ask as the sun sets over the city.
“Almost.” Sofia checks her weapon one final time, her movements clinical. “Just?—”
The building’s power cuts out.
Complete darkness. Not even emergency lighting.
Every instinct I have screams danger. This isn’t a power failure—this is tactical.
“Down!” I shout, tackling Sofia behind the kitchen island just as the windows explode inward in a shower of glass and twisted metal.
Flash-bang grenades turn the world into chaos—white light, deafening noise, disorientation that makes thinking impossible. But my body remembers what to do even when my mind can’t process the input.
I roll from cover, putting three bullets into the first figure through the window. My shots are instinctive, trained, finding their mark despite the ringing in my ears. Sofia’s beside me, her movements fluid and deadly as she engages multiple targets.
“East stairwell!” I call out, spotting more figures in the hallway. “They’re coming up both sides!”
We move. I cover Sofia’s advance while she clears corners that makes me proud and terrified in equal measure. She’s not the girl I used to protect—she’s the woman fighting beside me.
These aren’t the same people who took us from the cabin. This is a larger team, better equipped, more coordinated. They know the building layout, know our likely defensive positions.
“They’re trying to corner us in the main room!” Sofia calls out, recognizing the pattern. “Push us into a kill zone!”
“Service areas,” I respond, already moving toward the building’s utility corridors. “We can reach the garage level.”
Sofia provides covering fire as we fall back, her shots keeping the advancing team honest. One tries to flank through the bedroom—she drops him so quickly that would make Marco weep with pride.
But there are too many. They’re disciplined, working in coordinated teams. And the way they move through thepenthouse suggests they’ve studied the layout, planned for this exact scenario.
“How did they find us?” Sofia gasps as we reach the service corridor.
“The leak,” I say grimly. “Mario was right—someone with access sold us out.”
The service elevator is a death trap—they’ll have teams waiting at every level. But the maintenance shaft beside it offers possibilities.
“Can you fit?” Sofia asks, noting my broader shoulders as she pries open the access panel.
“I’ll make it work,” I grimace.
She slides down the maintenance shaft first, the metal tearing at her clothes but delivering her to the garage level mostly intact. I follow, barely squeezing through the narrow opening, my shoulders screaming in protest.
The garage is darker than the penthouse, emergency lighting casting strange shadows between concrete pillars. Sofia’s already moving toward the back wall where Mario had mentioned keeping emergency transportation.
Hidden behind a support pillar sits a motorcycle—sleek, powerful, ready for exactly this kind of emergency.
“You driving?” I ask, tossing her the keys. After seeing her handle the Harley at the cabin, I trust her completely.
“Always.” She swings onto the bike, and I feel it roar to life beneath us. “Hold tight.”
We burst from the garage just as black SUVs converge on the building’s entrance. Sofia guns the engine, weaving between them before they can coordinate their response. I look back to see more teams pouring into the building—fuck, this is overwhelming.
“Mario got out before this started,” I say against Sofia’s ear, reading her thoughts. “He’ll be fine.”
She nods, leaning into the next turn as pursuit vehicles appear behind us. But she’s gotten good at this—the evasion, the split-second decisions, the controlled recklessness that keeps us alive.
The city blurs past as we race through empty streets, and I realize something that should terrify me but doesn’t: I trust Sofia completely. With my life, with our mission, with everything that matters.
