Page 68 of Forbidden Empire
All around me, you could hear the metallic click of safeties coming off. No one bothered with words. Just a bunch of silent nods. We all knew there was a pretty good chance we’d be dead in the next five minutes.
I stared at the mansion. It was ridiculous, honestly. Like something out of a fever dream. Blinding white stucco, palm trees sagging in the dead heat, sun so bright you wanted to claw your eyes out.
Whoever built it had more money than sense. Not a single blade of grass or anything alive, rocks everywhere, shimmering in the heat like coals.
And then there were the gates. Eight feet tall, crowned in metal spikes that screamed “don’t even think about it.”
Security cameras everywhere, I counted twelve.
Each little red light blinked like the whole place was waiting to bite.
Two Escalades, black as sin and probably bulletproof, parked out front. The air above their hoods was so hot it shimmered. Marble lions by the door, looking like they’d eat you if you got too close. Real subtle.
My pulse? Steady. Hands? Rock solid.
The cameras already had my face, beaming it to monitors where assholes with guns would see me and freak out. I hoped they were running around like headless chickens, grabbing rifles and barking orders.
Good. Let them get ready. Let them know who was coming to ruin their day.
I checked my watch.
Ares wouldn’t have dragged me here unless he was sure. The entire mansion screamed Rhea’s taste, all that white marble pretending it was pure, when everyone knew the kind of dirty business that went down in places like this.
I jerked my chin once. “Now.”
Boots hit the top of the iron fence. Metal spikes grazed my calf as I vaulted over. The landing rattled my knees, but I was already moving, Glock slick in my palm.
Behind me, the solid thuds of my crew hitting ground came like a heartbeat, the war kind.
The flash-bang didn’t just take the door off; it exploded it. The boom rattled my teeth, and smoke rolled out in thick sheets. My ears rang, but there were already shouts from inside.
A shadow moved in the haze.
I double tapped his chest before his gun cleared the holster. Another guy rushed from the left, but Ares was faster.
A bullet tore the man’s throat out, spraying the pristine foyer wall with red, modern art courtesy of Ares.
“Three o’clock!” someone yelled.
I pivoted and dropped low. A bullet whizzed past where my head had just been.
I fired back twice. The guy dropped like soggy cardboard.
We pushed forward. Boots crunched on broken glass.
The scent of blood and cordite filled the air, signaling violence. Four more of Rhea’s men showed up at the living room entrance. They seemed more competent. The first shot scraped Dmitri’s shoulder, causing him to cry out and fall. I ducked behind a marble column as bullets shattered it, stone splinters hitting my cheek.
Twenty seconds. That was all it was. But it felt longer.
When the shooting stopped, I was panting, ears ringing, blood trickling warm down my neck, bodies everywhere, tangled on imported tile.
One of Rhea’s men was still making noises, gurgling over a chest wound. Ares finished him off.
“You hit?” Ares asked, giving me a look. His face had someone else’s blood on it.
I pressed the side of my neck. “Scratch. Stairs?”
“Left wing.” He jerked his chin toward the hall. “Second floor, east end.”
