A Night of Fire and Blood

The Calm Before the Storm

Emma sat curled on the leather couch in Alexander's study, the warm glow of the fireplace casting long shadows across the room. The night was unusually quiet—too quiet. She sipped the tea he had prepared for her earlier, the warmth doing little to soothe the chill in her bones.

Alexander stood near the window, his tall frame outlined against the darkness outside. His expression was unreadable, his posture tense.

Something was wrong.

She had felt it in the way his fingers tightened around hers at dinner, in the way his normally cool gaze had flickered toward the front gates when the guards reported a disturbance earlier.

And now, standing there, his broad shoulders rigid with anticipation, she knew—

He was preparing for war.

"Alexander," she whispered.

He turned, his stormy blue eyes locking onto hers.

"Come here," he said, his voice low but firm.

She rose to her feet, hesitating only for a second before walking into his embrace. His arms wrapped around her, strong and protective.

"I don't like this," she admitted, pressing her cheek against his chest.

"I know," he murmured.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself a brief moment of peace.

Then—

The first gunshot rang out.

—

Under Attack

The silence was shattered.

A second gunshot followed. Then another.

Shouts erupted from outside, followed by the distinct, rapid bursts of automatic fire.

Emma stiffened in Alexander's arms.

His grip on her tightened.

"Derek," Alexander barked into his earpiece. "What's happening?"

Static.

Then—

"Boss, they've breached the front gate! Multiple hostiles—heavily armed."

Emma's stomach clenched.

An attack.

On his home.

Alexander's eyes darkened. "How many?"

"Too many," Derek ground out. "This isn't a warning. They're here to take her."

Her.

Emma sucked in a sharp breath.

Alexander's expression turned murderous. "Over my dead body."

"Reinforcements are moving in, but they're inside the perimeter."

Inside.

Which meant—

They were already here.

A loud crash echoed from downstairs.

Emma jumped.

Alexander moved instantly, grabbing a handgun from the nearby desk and pressing it into her palm.

"Take this."

She stared at it. "I—"

"Now, Emma."

The authority in his voice left no room for argument.

She took the gun, gripping it tightly as he led her toward the hidden passage behind the bookshelf.

"Stay behind me," he ordered.

She obeyed.

The sound of approaching footsteps filled the hallway.

Then—

The door exploded open.

—

The Fight Begins

Alexander didn't hesitate.

He fired.

The first intruder went down before he could react.

A second rushed in—

Alexander grabbed him, twisting his arm at a brutal angle.

A sickening snap.

The man collapsed, screaming.

A third charged at him with a knife.

Emma gasped—

But Alexander moved like lightning.

A single, calculated shot—

Right between the eyes.

The body slumped to the floor.

Emma's heart hammered against her ribs.

She had known Alexander was dangerous.

But watching him like this—so cold, so efficient—

She realized something.

He wasn't just protecting her.

He was hunting them.

—

A Race Against Time

Derek's voice crackled through the earpiece again.

"Boss, they're flooding the east wing—there's more than we expected!"

Alexander exhaled sharply.

Romano wasn't playing games.

This wasn't just about power anymore.

It was personal.

"We need to get out of here," Emma whispered.

Alexander's jaw clenched.

Leaving wasn't an option.

Because if they ran now—

Romano would keep coming.

Over and over again.

Until one of them was dead.

No.

This ended tonight.

—

The Grand Staircase Standoff

They reached the grand staircase—

And stopped.

Because at the bottom—

A dozen men waited.

All armed.

All waiting for them.

Emma's pulse spiked.

Alexander's grip on his gun tightened.

For a moment, the room was silent.

Then—

The first shot rang out.

Alexander shoved Emma behind the banister, shielding her as bullets rained through the air.

The chandelier shattered above them.

Glass rained down like deadly snowflakes.

Alexander moved.

A shot to the left—down.

Another to the right—dead.

Emma's breath caught as he took them down one by one, each movement lethal, unstoppable.

But there were too many.

Even for him.

And then—

A man grabbed her.

—

Taken

The cold press of metal against her temple stole her breath.

"Drop it, Kingston," a voice sneered.

Alexander froze.

His gun was still raised, finger hovering over the trigger.

But his eyes—

They were murderous.

Emma swallowed hard, trying to keep her breathing steady.

"Let her go," Alexander said, voice deadly calm.

The man laughed.

"You think I don't know what she is?" he taunted. "You think Romano doesn't want her alive?"

Emma's skin prickled.

She wasn't just a hostage.

She was a bargaining chip.

Alexander's jaw flexed.

"You touch her," he said, his voice lethal, "and I'll make sure you never leave this room alive."

The man hesitated.

Just for a second.

And that was all Alexander needed.

—

The Kill Shot

Alexander moved.

Fast.

Before the man could react—

A single, precise shot.

Straight through the skull.

The grip on Emma's arm loosened—

Then fell away.

The body crumpled at her feet.

Silence.

Then—

"Are you okay?"

She looked up.

Alexander was already in front of her, hands on her face, eyes scanning her for injuries.

"I'm fine," she breathed.

Another lie.

But there wasn't time for the truth.

Not yet.

Because down the hall—

More footsteps approached.

The fight wasn't over.

Not yet.

—

To Be Continue...