The Wolves at the Gate

ISABELLA

I’ve survived exactly seventy-two hours inside the impenetrable Moretti fortress. My new existence has now quickly settle into a deeply uneasy routine.

Meals with Luca feel exactly like brutal police interrogations and walks through the sprawling compound feels like pacing the perimeter of a beautiful cage.

My nights are spent lying entirely awake listening to the heavily armed guards patrol the exterior walls. My days blur together into a suffocating haze of constant paranoia.

Luca never lowers his terrifying guard. He watches my every single movement with calculating eyes. He’s studying me like a complex puzzle he needs to solve.

I spend hours staring out the bulletproof glass of my bedroom window. I watch the violent ocean crash against the dark rocks below.

I constantly wonder what Marcus was doing back in the city. I wondered if the local police were actively searching for my car.

It’s exactly two o'clock in the morning when the power suddenly fails.

The heavy darkness swallows my bedroom instantly. The complete silence that follows feel incredibly wrong.

There’s no familiar hum from the massive backup generators, no distant voices shouting orders to the security team, just sudden quiet which feels heavy and suffocating.

I reach instinctively under my silk pillow. My trembling fingers brushing the cold metal of the compact handgun.

Luca gave it to me on my very first night in his home. His cruel words still echoed loudly in my memory.

"Do you remember how to use this weapon? Or did the quiet suburbs rot your brain completely?"

I grip the textured handle tightly and I roll silently out of the massive bed. My bare feet hit the freezing hardwood floor. I creep carefully toward the heavy reinforced door.

A horrific sound suddenly shatters the unnatural quiet. It sounds exactly like a distant, agonizing scream. It’s the terrifying hiss of chemical thermite melting rapidly through the reinforced east gate.

The Volkov syndicate has finally arrived. The assault is blindingly fast and highly coordinated. The entire operation utilizes lethal military precision.

The invaders move with absolute deadly efficiency. Five men wearing heavy tactical gear breach the main ground floor simultaneously. Two additional mercenaries hit the elevated mezzanine level with terrifying speed.

My bedroom door flies open with a violent crash.

Luca stands framed in the dark hallway. He has his heavy silver pistol drawn.

His handsome face is transformed into a terrifying mask of cold fury. He grabs my upper arm tightly. He positions me squarely behind his broad shoulders. We move silently together through the pitch-black corridors.

We creep into the deep shadows of the upper mezzanine. We peer carefully over the carved wooden railing.

I see the heavily armed mercenaries swarming the expensive foyer below us. They move with terrifying tactical grace. One massive soldier shouts a harsh command in heavy Russian.

"Find the Romanov girl! Secure the hidden ledger!"

Luca doesn’t hesitate for a single second. He raises his weapon smoothly and fires two deafening shots into the darkness.

Two mercenaries drops instantly to the marble floor. The remaining invaders return fire immediately. A chaotic hail of bullets tear violently through the upper level.

Sharp splinters rain down heavily on our heads and shattered wood coats my bare arms.

"Run," Luca commands harshly.

We sprint desperately toward the hidden service stairs. I clutch the compact handgun tightly to my chest. My lungs burning for oxygen.

A small metallic cylinder bounces loudly against the stone steps ahead of us.

A stun grenade detonated with world-ending force. A blinding white light sears my retinas instantly and a deafening ringing noise ruptures my eardrums.

I stumble blindly in the total chaos. I’ve completely lost my tight grip on Luca's suit jacket.

A rough, unfamiliar hand grabs my throat violently. It’s definitely not Luca. Thick, calloused fingers dig brutally into my windpipe.

The massive attacker dragged my thrashing body toward a dark side exit.

I kick my legs wildly and claw desperately at his thick tactical gloves. I can’t pull a single breath into my burning lungs.

The edges of my vision starts turning a fuzzy, suffocating gray. I’m losing consciousness rapidly.

In a few seconds, pure survival instinct overrides my blinding panic.

I grip the compact handgun tightly in my right hand. I jam the hot metal barrel forcefully backward and shove it blindly into the attacker's muscular thigh.

I pull the heavy trigger twice in rapid succession.

The giant man drops like a severed puppet. He releases his crushing grip on my throat entirely and I fall forward onto my hands and knees.

I gasp desperately for sweet air.

I stare down at the bleeding body sprawling across the cold stone floor. A dark Volkov syndicate patch decorates his tactical shoulder pad.

I watch the dark blood pool rapidly beneath his leg. He’s completely motionless. I’ve just killed a human being.

I wait anxiously for the crushing guilt to arrive. I expect to feel a blinding remorse. I anticipate an uncontrollable sobbing, bracing myself for a complete mental breakdown.

None of those expected reactions surfaces. Instead, a terrifying heat blooms deep inside my chest.

I feel an undeniable hunger for more violence. I want to hurt the men who are hunting me. That dark realization scares me far more than the dead body on the floor.

The weak suburban housewife died permanently in that dark hallway. A completely different creature has taken her place.

Luca appears suddenly through the thick, acrid smoke. He hauls me roughly to my shaking feet and pulls me violently down the remaining stairs toward the subterranean garage.

We scrambled into a heavily armored black SUV. Luca slammed his foot aggressively onto the gas pedal. The heavy vehicle launched forward with terrifying speed. We crashed forcefully through the burning remains of the security gate.

Enemy bullets pings harmlessly off the reinforced glass like heavy hailstones. The magnificent Moretti fortress burns brightly in my rearview mirror and huge flames licks the dark night sky.

I look down at my trembling legs and the dead man's blood is still incredibly warm against my pale skin. I realize with absolute horror that I never want to wash it off.