Page 85 of Beauty and the Daddy
He fires from somewhere down the bannister, and I feel the air split as bullets tear past my ear. Belle gasps. The bastard's shooting wild, but wild bullets kill just as dead as aimed ones.
"Running out of patience here," I mutter, dropping to one knee to reduce his line of sight.
"Luca…" Belle whispers behind me.
"When I tell you to run, you run, okay?" I hiss back. "Do not question me. Just go get Sofia."
She doesn't say anything.
"Okay?" I turn to her. She's ashen. Terrified.
"Okay, okay!" she says when I don't stop glaring.
The house alarm wails, finally catching up to reality. Red emergency lights paint everything in blood. Belle's breathing hard behind me, each inhale like a countdown.
I spot movement downstairs.
Not today.
"Run," I tell Belle, and shove her down the hall. "Now!"
She bolts, and the guy makes his mistake—he climbs back up the stairs just to track and his eyes follow her for a split second.
That's all I need.
I empty three rounds into the space where his head just appeared. His body drops like someone cut the strings.
Two down. But there could be more.
Gotta get to Sofia.
I follow down the hallway, listening for Belle. The gunfire outside has quieted—either my men have handled it, or we're in deeper shit than I thought.
I burst through Sofia's door, gun first, eyes scanning.
Belle's there, Sofia clutched against her chest. My little girl's eyes are wide, terrified.
"Daddy?" Her voice cracks.
"It's okay, princess. I'm here."
I cross over.
Belle's holding it together, but barely. Her face is white as bone, but her arms around Sofia are steady. Strong.
"Daddy, are these the bad men?" Sofia's voice trembles like a bird's wing. "The ones who want to hurt us?"
Something tears open in my chest. This child shouldn't know about bad men, shouldn't have words for the darkness that follows me everywhere.
"Yeah, princess. But they can't touch you." I cup her small face in my hands. "I won't let them."
I look at Belle. "Panic room. Behind the bookcase."
"I know where it is."
"Code is 0-4-1-2—Sofia's birthday backwards." My thumb traces my daughter's cheek. "Belle's going to keep you safe while Daddy handles the bad men."
Sofia's bottom lip quivers. "What about you?"
