Chapter 4 - Blood and Porcelain
Before Vance’s finger could squeeze the trigger, Ellie dropped flat to the polished marble floor.
Crack-crack-crack.
Bullets shattered the crystal chandelier above, raining diamond-like shards across the dining room. Damien didn't flinch; moving with supernatural speed for a man of his size, he pivoted, using his own armored body to shield his sons while drawing his weapon in a single, fluid motion.
Bang.
A single deafening shot echoed through the room. Vance gasped, dropping his weapon as a crimson flower bloomed across his chest. He staggered backward, crashing through the French doors onto the balcony, tumbling over the wrought-iron railing into the abyss below.
The three hundred pounds of security rushed forward, securing the perimeter, but the threat inside the room had vanished.
In the sudden quiet, Ellie remained on the floor, breathing heavily, her pink-and-white uniform stained with dust and spilled champagne. Damien handed the unharmed twins to a trembling nurse who had just scrambled back into the room, then turned his massive frame toward Ellie. He knelt down beside her, his expression unreadable beneath his harsh scars.
"You saved my sons," Damien said, his voice dropping its dangerous register, turning into something unnervingly soft. "And you just walked into a mafia war zone. What’s your name, little waitress?"
May you like
"Ellie. Ellie Cooper," she whispered, looking up at him.
"Ellie Cooper," Damien repeated, testing the name on his tongue as if memorizing it. "You think you can survive working for the Moretti family? Because right now, every Vanguard assassin in the city knows you saw too much."
