Chapter 10
The cold steel of the pistol barrel was inches from Emma’s forehead. She closed her eyes, her mind screaming Nora's name, waiting for the blinding flash of the gunshot that would end her life.
But the gunshot didn't come from Marcus.
A deafening roar echoed through the concrete cavern of the garage. The guard holding Emma was suddenly thrown backward, a spray of crimson painting the side of the SUV as he collapsed to the floor.
Emma scrambled backward, her hands slipping on the polished concrete, her eyes flying open.
Standing at the entrance of the garage was Adrian Cole. He was no longer the composed, frighteningly controlled boss; he was an apex predator unleashed. His black dress shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, his dark eyes burning with an apocalyptic, murderous fury. In his hands, he held a heavy tactical assault rifle, smoke curling from the barrel.
"Step away from them, Marcus!" Adrian roared, his voice shaking the very foundation of the estate.
Marcus staggered back, his aristocratic composure cracking for the first time. The two remaining guards instinctively raised their weapons toward Adrian, but Adrian was faster. He moved with blinding, lethal precision, firing two controlled bursts. The guards dropped before they could even pull their triggers.
Marcus was left standing alone, his silver pistol trembling in his hand as Adrian stalked toward him, the assault rifle lowered but ready.
"Adrian, listen to me," Marcus stammered, raising his free hand in a placating gesture. "You're thinking with your heart, not your head. The girl is a weakness. James was a weakness!"
"James was my brother!" Adrian bellowed, stopping ten feet away. His imposing, deeply masculine presence dominated the space, suffocating the older man. "He was your blood! And you fed him to the dogs to protect your own power!"
"I protected this family!" Marcus shouted back, his fear morphing into desperate anger. "I built this syndicate with your father! I wasn't going to let a boy with a bleeding heart tear it down to play house with a baker!"
Emma slowly crawled toward the SUV, wrapping her arms around the door handle, positioning her body to shield the glass where Nora was crying inside.
Adrian’s jaw locked. The muscles in his neck strained against his tattoos. "You took him from me. And now, you try to take his daughter."
Marcus realized there was no reasoning left. With a desperate, feral snarl, he raised his pistol, aiming squarely at Adrian’s chest.
Before Marcus could pull the trigger, Adrian fired a single, deafening shot.
Marcus gasped, the silver pistol slipping from his fingers. He looked down at his chest, his pristine gray suit blooming with dark red. He collapsed to his knees, his dead eyes staring blankly ahead, before pitching forward onto the concrete.
The garage fell into a ringing, heavy silence. The smell of gunpowder and copper was overwhelming.
Adrian stood frozen for a moment, his chest heaving. He slowly lowered the rifle, the adrenaline draining from his system. He turned his head, his dark, intense eyes locking onto Emma. She was shaking violently, clutching the door of the SUV, her pale-pink maid uniform stained with grime from the floor.
Adrian dropped the rifle. He walked over to her, his polished black leather shoes stepping over the bodies of the men who had betrayed him. He crouched down in front of her, his ruggedly handsome face softening as he reached out and gently pulled her into his broad chest.
"I've got you," Adrian whispered roughly into her hair, his strong arms wrapping around her shaking frame. "I've got you, Emma. You're safe."
Inside the car, Nora continued to cry, banging her tiny fists against the window. Adrian reached past Emma, opening the door and unbuckling the little girl. He scooped Nora up, holding her tightly against his tattooed chest.
"It's okay, little one," Adrian murmured, resting his chin on top of her curly blonde head, the exact way James used to sit. "Uncle Adrian is here."
Suddenly, the heavy steel doors of the garage burst open again. Silas stepped into the light, flanked by a dozen heavily armed men loyal to the syndicate. Silas looked at the bodies on the floor, then at Adrian holding the woman and the child.
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"Boss," Silas said, his voice hard, his weapon raised. "We have a problem."
Adrian’s eyes narrowed, shifting from the warmth of a protector back to the cold, lethal stare of a Mafia Boss. The war for his brother’s legacy had just begun.
