Chapter 7– The Second Attack

“Move, Ariana!” Cole’s voice snapped through the air like a gunshot.

For a split second, I couldn’t move. My body just refused. The lights outside the windows flickered, flashing across the marble floor like strobes at a nightclub. Then—pop. Pop. Two quick, muffled bursts. Not fireworks.

Gunshots.

Reality slammed back in.

Cole was already at my side, hand on my arm, dragging me down the hall. “Basement. Now.”

“What—how are they inside?” I gasped.

“They breached the gate. Security’s down.”

I stumbled after him, heart hammering so fast it hurt. “Down? How can the security be down? This place is a fortress!”

“Someone on the inside,” he muttered. “No time. Keep low.”

We reached the grand staircase just as a pane of glass shattered somewhere behind us. The sound was sharp, too close.

“Cole—”

“Stay behind me.”

He raised his gun and pressed his back to the wall, scanning the corner before signaling for me to follow. His movements were fast but precise—every motion calculated, quiet, and professional. I’d seen him calm before, but this was different. Cold. Dangerous.

We crept through the hall, past the portraits of my father’s ancestors glaring down from their gilded frames. It was surreal—gunfire echoing through a house that looked like it belonged in an art catalog.

Then I heard voices. Low. Rough. Male.

“There’s two of them still inside.”

“Orders?”

“Find her. Leave no trace.”

My blood ran cold.

Cole looked at me, eyes sharp. “Back room. Go.”

I didn’t argue. I ducked into the nearest door—a small parlor with floor-length curtains and way too much antique furniture. Cole followed, closing the door quietly behind us.

He motioned for me to crouch behind the sofa. I did, barely breathing. He stood by the window, gun raised, every muscle tense.

Seconds dragged. Footsteps approached, they're nearby.

I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying to muffle the sound of my breathing. The doorknob rattled.

Cole’s eyes met mine across the room, and in that instant, I understood exactly how bad this was.

The door burst open.

Two men stepped inside, dressed in black, their faces were covered covered.

Cole moved first. A single sharp motion—two shots. One hit the wall, the other dropped the first intruder. The second fired back, bullets tearing through the air.

“Down!” Cole shouted.

I hit the floor as glass shattered behind me. My ears rang. Cole ducked behind the sofa, returning fire. The gunfire was deafening in the enclosed space.

Then everything went silent.

I peeked over the armrest. Both intruders were down. Cole stayed crouched for another few seconds, listening. Then he looked at me.

“You okay?”

I nodded, though my hands were shaking. “Yeah. Totally fine. Just my first home invasion before lunch.”

His mouth twitched despite the situation. “Good. Stay sarcastic. Means you’re conscious.”

I let out a breath that sounded suspiciously close to a sob. “Cole… what the hell is happening?”

He holstered his weapon. “Someone’s feeding them intel. They knew exactly where to come.”

“You think it’s one of the guards?”

He shook his head. “Too sloppy for that. This feels personal.”

“Personal?”

Before he could answer, the radio on his belt crackled. Static. Then a panicked voice: “Maddox, east wing—security’s compromised! They’re inside!”

Cole swore under his breath. “We’re not safe here. follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

He grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the door. “Somewhere they can’t find us.”

We ran through the corridor, my bare feet sliding on the polished floor. The alarms had started blaring—shrill, overlapping with the gunfire echoing in the distance. Somewhere down the hall, another window shattered.

“Cole, wait—slow down!” I gasped.

“Can’t,” he said, his voice clipped. “They’ll cut us off if we stay still.”

I grabbed the banister as we turned a corner too fast. “Where are the guards? There were six on shift tonight!”

“Either down or bought,” he said grimly. “And I’m betting on the second one.”

My stomach twisted. “You think one of them sold us out?”

He didn’t answer. That silence was answer enough.

We reached the east wing—a maze of rooms rarely used except for parties and my father’s meetings. Cole stopped suddenly, motioning for me to stay back. He leaned around the corner, he's gun ready to make a hole in head.

Then he froze.

“What?” I whispered.

He looked back at me. “There’s a body.”

My blood ran cold. “Who?”

“Your head of security. Rameez.”

I peeked around him despite the warning in his eyes. Rameez was slumped against the wall, eyes open but empty. The man who used to bring me coffee during my morning jogs was gone. Just like that.

“Oh my God…”

Cole pulled me back before I could step closer. “Don’t. We can’t stay here.”

“Cole, he’s—”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I can’t help him now. We have to take care of ourselves."

Something in his tone—quiet but commanding—cut through the chaos. I nodded, my throat tight and I felt thirsty, but it was not time to drink water or someone will make us their blood drink tonight.

We kept moving, through hallways that suddenly felt alien. Every sound made me flinch: the creak of the floorboards, the faint hum of the ventilation, the echo of our steps.

At the far end of the hall, the emergency lights flickered, throwing red shadows across the walls. Cole slowed, scanning each doorway. His hand brushed against mine, grounding me, i felt something a weird sensation with his touch but i ignored it.

“You still with me?” he murmured.

“Barely,” I whispered.

“Good enough.”

We turned a corner—and froze.

Two more men were there, rifles raised.

"I guess we're doomed tonight." i whisper.

"you have me princess , don't worry."