Chapter 20 - Into the Viper’s Nest
The four private mercenaries didn't hesitate. Trained killers hired through international black-market channels, they reached under their jackets for their concealed submachine guns.
Screams tore through the ballroom. High-society elites dove behind marble pillars, overturning tables of champagne and crystal in a blind frenzy to escape the line of fire.
"Elena, down!" Adrian roared.
With blinding speed, Adrian seized the nearest mercenary by the wrist before the man could draw his weapon. With a sickening crunch, Adrian snapped the man’s arm backward, driving his elbow into the operative's throat and throwing his limp body into the second guard.
*BANG!*
A gunshot echoed through the hall, shattering a massive chandelier above. Shards of crystal rained down like lethal hail.
Marcus and six Vale security operatives charged into the ballroom through the side entrances, their weapons drawn, engaging the remaining mercenaries in a brief, brutal exchange of close-quarters combat.
In the chaos and smoke, Julian Vance turned like a cornered animal and bolted toward the service exits behind the stage.
"He's running!" I shouted, kicking off my high heels to regain traction on the slippery marble.
"Stay with Marcus!" Adrian ordered, but I was already moving.
"He's my uncle, Adrian! He ruined my father! I am finishing this!"
I dashed past the overturned tables, running through the backstage curtains into the dimly lit service corridors of the Historical Society. The smell of gunsmoke and rain-soaked concrete hit my senses as I tracked the bloody footprints left by Julian’s hand where my ring had scratched him.
The corridor led down a narrow flight of concrete stairs into the subterranean heating tunnels beneath Fifth Avenue—a maze of rusted pipes, hissing steam valves, and flickering yellow lightbulbs.
"Elena!" Adrian’s voice echoed down the stairwell behind me, relentless and fierce.
I reached the bottom of the landing. Steam hissed from a fractured valve, blinding my vision.
Suddenly, a heavy, cold hand gripped my throat from the shadows, slamming my back violently against the brick wall.
"You stupid, treacherous girl," Julian hissed into my face, his breath hot and rank with desperation.
In his right hand, a silver-plated snub-nosed revolver was pressed firmly beneath my jaw.
His silver hair was disheveled, his tuxedo torn, his single eye bulging with psychotic mania.
"You ruined ten years of planning," Julian whispered, his finger tightening around the trigger. "If I go down, Elena, you're coming with me. Your father will bury another child!"
The cold steel pressed against my skin, sending a jolt of ice through my veins. But I didn't tremble. I didn't beg.
I looked straight into his mad eye and smiled.
May you like
"Look behind you, Uncle."
***