Chapter 5 - BLOOD AND RAIN
The silence that followed was instant and absolute.
Gregory froze, his face draining of all color in a fraction of a second. The three Delacroix guards whipped their submachine guns toward the high window frame.
BANG! BANG!
Before the guards could pull their triggers, two shots echoed through the cavernous building. The high-powered rounds blew through the chests of the two outer guards, sending them crashing backward into the concrete dust.
Victor Castellano plunged through the glass window, landing heavily on his feet like a predatory panther.
The third guard frantically brought his weapon up, but Victor was already upon him. Victor grabbed the barrel of the guard's gun with his bare left hand, twisting it violently sideways until the man's wrist snapped with a loud CRACK. Before the man could scream, Victor drove his tactical knife straight up beneath the guard's ribcage, dropping him instantly to the floor.
Victor stood amidst the falling dust and rain leaking through the roof, his dark eyes fixed entirely on Gregory.
Gregory backed away frantically, grabbing Hannah by her hair and pulling her up from the chair, using her as a human shield while pressing his silver gun against her neck.
"Stay back, Victor!" Gregory screamed, his voice cracking with sheer terror. "Stay back or I’ll blow her head off! I swear to God I’ll do it!"
Victor did not stop walking. His steps were slow, heavy, and terrifyingly deliberate. Blood—not his own—dripped from the blade in his hand onto the concrete floor.
"Put the gun down, Gregory," Victor said softly, his voice echoing off the corrugated iron walls.
"You think I won't?" Gregory shrieked, his hand shaking violently as he squeezed Hannah tighter. "I know how you work! If I let her go, you kill me anyway! I have thirty million dollars waiting in a Swiss account! I'm leaving this country tonight!"
"Look at her, Gregory," Victor commanded calmly, stopping six feet away.
Hannah’s eyes locked onto Victor’s. Despite the gun pressed against her throat, despite the horror around her, she didn't scream. She saw the dark, absolute love and fury burning in Victor’s eyes, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trusting him completely.
"She has something of mine in her coat," Victor said quietly.
Gregory blinked, confused for a microsecond. "What? What are you talking about—"
CLANG!
Hannah suddenly threw her head backward with all her strength, smashing the back of her skull directly into Gregory’s nose.
Gregory gasped in pain, his grip loosening as blood erupted from his nostrils. His silver gun drifted half an inch away from her neck.
That half-inch was all Victor Castellano needed.
Victor raised his weapon and fired a single round.
The heavy bullet struck Gregory’s right shoulder, shattering the bone and sending his silver pistol flying into the darkness. Gregory dropped to his knees with a agonized scream, clutching his ruined arm.
Victor lunged forward, catching Hannah as she stumbled, wrapping his massive arms around her waist and pulling her securely against his chest.
For three long seconds, Victor simply held her, his heart hammering violently against his ribs, his breath ragged against her damp hair.
May you like
"Are you alright?" he whispered, his voice trembling—a sound no man in Baltimore had ever heard from Victor Castellano.
Hannah buried her face into the curve of his neck, her hands gripping his wet suit jacket tightly. "I knew you’d come," she sobbed softly. "I knew you promised Poppy."
