Chapter 5 - THE SHADOW STRIKES
The peace was a fragile illusion. I learned that the hard way two nights later.
A storm was raging outside, rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the library. I couldn't sleep. The pain in my shoulder was throbbing, and the phantom echoes of gunfire still haunted my dreams. I had wandered downstairs to find a book, wrapped in a silk robe Dominic had provided.
I was scanning the shelves when the lights suddenly flickered and died, plunging the massive room into pitch blackness.
A chill crawled up my spine. The estate was on a backup generator; the power shouldn't have failed.
"Dominic?" I called out softly.
Silence.
Then, a faint sound. A footstep on the hardwood floor, soft and deliberate. It wasn't the heavy tread of a guard.
My father's voice echoed in my head. Assess the environment. Find a weapon. Do not freeze.
I blindly reached out, my hand closing around a heavy bronze bookend on the desk. I pressed my back against the bookshelves, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure the intruder could hear it.
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room for a fraction of a second. In that brief burst of light, I saw him—a man dressed in tactical black, holding a suppressed pistol, creeping toward the center of the room. He was looking for me.
Before I could move, a shadow detached itself from the doorway.
Dominic.
He moved with terrifying, lethal speed. He didn't use a gun. He tackled the intruder to the ground. A brutal, silent struggle ensued in the darkness. I heard the sickening crunch of bone, a muffled groan, and then... silence.
The backup generators kicked in a second later, bathing the room in a dim emergency light.
Dominic stood over the unconscious body of the assassin. His chest heaved, his eyes wild and feral, completely stripped of his humanity. He looked like a predator that had just made a kill.
He spun around, scanning the room frantically until his eyes landed on me, huddled against the bookcase, trembling.
"Lily." He crossed the room in three strides, dropping the bloody knife he had pulled from the assassin. He grabbed my shoulders—careful of the injured one—and pulled me against his chest. "Are you hurt? Did he touch you?"
"No," I breathed, dropping the bookend. "I'm okay. Dominic, how did he get in?"
"Someone on the inside," Dominic growled, holding me so tightly I could feel the furious pounding of his heart against mine. "The Morettis. They breached the perimeter."
He pulled back just enough to look at my face. His eyes were dark, swirling with fear and rage. "I told you I would protect you. I failed."
"You didn't fail, you saved me," I argued, my hands instinctively resting on his chest.
Dominic looked down at my lips, the adrenaline of the fight morphing into something else entirely—something raw, desperate, and consuming.
May you like
"I can't lose you," he whispered hoarsely.
Before I could reply, he crushed his mouth to mine. The kiss was explosive, tasting of adrenaline, fear, and a burning, undeniable possession. I didn't pull away. I kissed him back, my good hand tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer as the storm raged outside and a new one ignited within me.
