He yanks the emergency alarm.
Loud sirens blast throughout the building. People pour out of their offices. Steel shutters drop, locking the vault. Security—finally—storms out of the stairwell doors.
“Take them out. No survivors,” the blond shouts, voice gleeful.
I scream as someone plows into me, knocking me onto the floor. My knees crack against the marble. Pain flashes white behind my eyes.
Gunfire explodes and mayhem swirls around me.
People drop like boulders in a rockslide. Screams, terrifying screams, ricochet off the marble.
I curl into a ball, my hands covering my head. I’m shaking so hard my teeth clack. I don’t want to die. Not like this.
Suddenly, the scent of dry vetiver and smoke wraps around me.
Elias is covering my body with his. He shoves me into a corner.
“Stay here. Don’t move.”
His warmth leaves me, and Maxwell shouts in the distance. “Lana, go! Fucking go.”
I come to my senses and scamper to my feet.
Acid rushes up my throat as I see the bloodshed for the first time.
Bodies everywhere, streaks of red tagging the walls and the floor. My stomach lurches. The world tilts, and for a second, I think I’m going to black out.
Three of the four thugs remain standing, mad laughter ripping from their mouths.
Crimson soaks the blond’s hair, his lips twisting into an unhinged smile as he shoots the guard next to him. A gut shot. Then a headshot.
Bob, the new concierge, lunges forward—only to be caught by a knife. Once. Twice. The thug doesn’t blink. He exacts his violence until Bob collapses onto the floor.
I just talked to Bob last week. We had coffee together. His wife just had a baby.
My feet move before my mind catches up. Maxwell has a gun in his hand—I don’t know how he got it—he’s taking out soldiers who look like the thugs.
More bodies drop around me. More gunfire. Smoke invades the air.
I duck as someone screams, my body still moving toward Maxwell.
Almost there. A few more steps then I’ll reach him.
A gun barrel presses against my temple.
A muscular arm pins me against a heated body.
“Call your men off, or I’ll blow her brains out,” Elias commands.
Maxwell freezes. He lowers his gun and yells, “Down, everyone. Stop. Weapons down.”
Steel digs into my skin. I shake. My vision tunnels. All I can see is the horror in my brother’s eyes.
“Shhh. You’re okay,” Elias murmurs, his voice soothing, like he’s calming a crying child.
Crazy. This man is nuts.
“Don’t do this, Elias,” Maxwell tries again. “You want something from us? Just ask. I’ll give it to you. All of this. Yours.”
