Page 51 of Forbidden Empire
I looked up at Ares, my pulse pounding, fingers tightening around the phone. “Another threat from Rhea.”
He nodded, shrugged, opened his mouth to speak, and then, just as I’d dreaded, chaos detonated.
The doors to the private club exploded open at the bottom of the stairs.
Two of my men were already down, sprawled in pools of crimson, bleeding out in sick, glossy puddles on the marble.
Masked men flooded inside, a small unit, but armed and trained, their movements sharp and merciless as they swept through the threshold.
Ares and I reached for our guns at the exact same time.
Shouts and screams erupted, a discordant symphony as the masked men unleashed bullets into the crowd. Glass shattered, wood splintered, bodies dove for cover, panic rippling through the room like shockwaves.
People scrambled behind chairs, bolted through side doors, vanished into the back rooms, desperate to escape the slaughter.
“Where’s Aidon?” one of the men shouted.
At the sound of my name, Ares closed the distance, stepping in front of me, a living barricade, as the masked men lunged up the stairs toward my office.
They hit the landing, and gunfire tore through the air again, deafening and relentless.
Ares and I fired back, the strobe of muzzle flashes illuminating the insanity as bullets ricocheted off walls, chewed through furniture, and sent paper snowing from shelves.
We ducked behind my desk, pressed close, but there were too many of them. The odds were ugly and getting worse by the second.
Then I heard it, the pounding boots, the shouts from my guards. Hope clawed its way up my throat.
I risked a glance, catching the epic clash erupting in the hall: my men versus theirs, both sides ruthless, both sides bleeding, neither side willing to yield.
Whoever these fuckers worked for, they had been trained for this. My men fought hard, but they were holding the line.
My mind spun.
I worried about Ares, about whether I could protect myself.
But above all, I worried about Esme. She was right on the other side of this wall.
My reason for every move, every breath.
And I would die before I let anyone touch her.
I searched through the deafening chaos. “I need to get Esme.”
“I’ll cover you,” Ares never hesitated, rising to his feet and unleashing hell in the direction of the men charging our way.
Bullets tore through the air, slamming into two of them.
They dropped, dead weight, but it wasn’t enough. The rest kept coming, relentless, spraying round after round like they had eternity in their magazines.
Ares’s shout ripped through the room, raw and desperate, as he collapsed behind my desk.
Shit.
I was back at his side in an instant, dropping down and meeting his gaze.
Blood soaked through his shirt, blooming fast, dark and ominous. That wound was bad. Really fucking bad.
“Ares! Fuck!” I ripped off my shirt and pressed it hard to his chest.
