Mom. Mom screaming. Gunshots. Blood spreading across white carpet—
Someone hits me from the side.
Axel.
We go down hard, his body covering mine, crushing me into the floor. His weight knocks the air from my lungs.
"Don't move," he snarls in my ear. "Don't fucking move, Aurora."
More gunfire. So much gunfire. The chandelier above us explodes, raining crystal.
I'm eight years old again. Hiding under the dining room table. Watching men in masks shoot my mother. Watching her fall. Watching the blood.
So much blood…
"Viktor!" Axel's shouting. "STATUS!"
"Volkov's men!" Viktor's voice from somewhere. "East and south perimeters! At least fifteen!"
"Aurora." Dad's crawling toward us through broken glass. "Is she—"
"She's fine. I've got her." Axel's hands are on my face, forcing me to look at him. "Hey. Stay with me. Don't go wherever you're going. Stay here."
But I can't. I'm not here. I'm eight years old, and my mother's dying, and I can't help her, can't save her, can only hide like a coward.
"We need to move her," Axel says to Dad. "Safe room. Now."
"I'll cover you." Dad's pulling a gun from somewhere.When did he get a gun?"GO!"
Axel hauls me up. My legs don't work. Don't want to hold me.
"Move, Aurora. You have to move."
He's half-carrying, half-dragging me. We're in the hallway. More gunfire behind us, our men returning fire, shouting orders in Russian and Italian.
A man rounds the corner ahead of us.
Not one of ours.
I see the black mask first, then the tactical gear, then the assault rifle coming up to aim directly at my chest. Everything slows down, I can see his finger tightening on the trigger, can see Axel's hand moving—
Axel shoves me behind him so hard I stumble, his other hand already pulling his weapon from the holster at his back. The movement is fluid, practiced, like he's done it a thousand times.
Two shots crack through the hallway.
The masked man drops like his strings were cut, weapon clattering to the floor beside him. There's blood spreading beneath his body, dark against the marble.
"Move!" Axel barks, already pulling me forward.
We keep running, stepping over the body. I try not to look but I see it anyway, the two holes in his chest, perfectly placed. Kill shots.
Axel just killed a man like it was nothing.
We're almost to the end of the hallway when another attacker appears from the side corridor. This one's faster, already firing. Axel spins, puts himself between me and the bullets, and returns fire in the same motion.
The man stumbles backward from the impact but doesn't go down. His vest must have caught the rounds. He's raising his gun again, adjusting his aim toward me.
Axel's on him before I can scream.
