Chapter 7 - The Final Stand In The Study
The shot went wide, punching a jagged hole through the mahogany bookcase behind Raphael as wood splinters exploded into the air.
Raphael didn't flinch. He fired once.
The suppressed thud was sharp and final.
A red bloom spread rapidly across the chest of Viktor’s expensive gray suit. The raider gasped, his eyes losing their focus, his pistol slipping from his nerveless fingers and clattering onto the Persian rug. He staggered backward, hit the edge of the mahogany desk, and crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap.
The office fell into an absolute, suffocating silence.
Raphael stood frozen for three seconds, his chest heaving, listening for any other sound in the house. Nothing. Just the faint hum of the tree lights twinkling downstairs and the distant rumble of a police siren beginning to wail faintly in the crisp Houston air.
He immediately holstered his weapon, dropped to his knees beside Lauren’s chair, and pulled a small pocket knife from his trousers to slice through the heavy industrial zip-ties binding her wrists.
“Raph...” Lauren choked out, her hands shaking uncontrollably as the bindings fell away. She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder as the shock finally broke and she began to sob. “I was so stupid... I thought I lost you... I thought they were going to kill us...”
“I’ve got you,” Raphael whispered fiercely, holding her tight against him, burying his face in her hair as his own hands finally began to tremble. “I’ve got you, Lo. It’s over. You’re safe.”
Downstairs, heavy boots thudded against the marble foyer, accompanied by shouting voices and flashing red-and-blue lights bleeding through the tall windows. State troopers had arrived, led by Cynthia, who stood safely behind the police line with wide, relieved eyes.
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Raphael pulled back, cupping Lauren’s face in his hands, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, as the sirens grew louder outside.
Christmas Day in Houston, Texas, had not been easy. It had been violent, terrifying, and nearly fatal. But as Raphael pulled his wife into his arms and walked her down the grand staircase away from the shadows, he knew one thing with absolute certainty: no one would ever walk into his home again and threaten the people he loved.
