Chapter 7 - The Blood Waltz
The first shot echoed through the ballroom, shattering a chandelier into a thousand glittering shards that rained down upon the screaming crowd.
Panic erupted instantly. The wealthy elite trampled over one another to reach the main exits, but Victor Vane's private security forces had already sealed the heavy oak doors, cutting off the ballroom from the outside world.
"Matteo, take the stage!" Lorenzo roared, pushing Evelyn behind a solid marble pillar as gunfire tore through the air.
Evelyn hit the wall, her heart in her throat. She reached down, ripping the slit of her dress higher, her fingers closing around the cold pearl handle of the stiletto strapped to her thigh.
A heavy-set guard in a tactical vest rounded the pillar, an assault rifle raised. Before he could squeeze the trigger, Lorenzo stepped into his space, grabbing the barrel of the weapon and forcing it upward. A burst of gunfire chewed into the plaster ceiling. Lorenzo drove his elbow hard into the man’s throat, followed by a point-blank shot to his chest.
The man collapsed in a heap of blood.
Lorenzo turned to Evelyn, his eyes blazing with adrenaline and raw dominance. "Stay behind me!"
"Look out!" Evelyn screamed.
A second mercenary lunged from the shadows behind Lorenzo, raising a hunting knife aimed straight for his back. Lorenzo was occupied firing at two snipers on the mezzanine balcony.
Instinct took over. Evelyn didn't think; she didn't hesitate. She threw herself forward, driving the silver stiletto upward with all her weight, burying the blade directly into the side of the attacker's neck, exactly where Lorenzo had instructed.
Hot, thick blood sprayed across her hands and the front of her dark silk gown.
The man let out a wet, gurgling gasp and dropped to his knees, clawing at the blade embedded in his throat before collapsing facedown on the marble.
Evelyn stood frozen, staring down at her blood-soaked hands, her chest heaving, the reality of what she had just done crashing over her like a tidal wave. She had taken a life.
Lorenzo spun around, taking in the dead mercenary and Evelyn’s trembling form. A dark, predatory pride ignited in his eyes. He stepped over the body, grabbing her face with both hands, ignoring the gunfire echoing around them.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice thick with raw intensity. "Look at me, Evelyn."
She looked up into his dark eyes, tears of shock pooling in her lashes.
"You survived," Lorenzo whispered fiercely, his thumbs wiping away a streak of blood from her cheek. "You're a killer now. My killer."
Before she could process his words, he pulled her into a sudden, bruising kiss. It was violent, possessive, and tastes of copper and adrenaline. Evelyn gasped against his mouth, her fingers clutching the lapels of his tuxedo, caught in the intoxicating, terrifying madness of his world.
He broke the kiss, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Now, let's finish this."
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He pulled an extra magazine from his pocket, slammed it into his weapon, and led her through the burning wreckage of the ballroom toward the private VIP elevators where Victor and Celeste Vane were attempting to escape.
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