“Okay.” I hung up, dropped the phone on the desk, and sprang into action. I locked the double doors that led to my office, but they were made of wood so they wouldn’t hold up against gunfire. I had a large shelving unit that held a couple picture frames and other decor. I used all my strength to slide it across the floor to block the door. Then I moved a shorter dresser in front of that, putting as much weight against the door as I could.
I opened the closet and pulled out all the guns.
I found the rifle with the scope used for picking off men from a distance, the AK-47 that could spray bullets at close contact, the handguns and all the magazines and the rounds. I dumped it all on the desk, along with the knife that was packed with it. I strapped the black vestover my white dress and secured it in place, protecting me from gunfire and knives.
I looked at the knife and immediately thought of Wolfe.
I had a mini panic attack when I stared at it.
“He’s coming…he’s coming.” Knowing he was driving like a fucking madman to get to me was the only thing that kept me calm. All I had to do was survive and evade capture until he arrived, and then he would fix everything.
I put the knife in the sheath and secured it to my upper thigh underneath my dress in case I needed it.
“Alright, focus.” I grabbed the rifle and checked that the barrel was loaded before I moved to the window. I secured the butt of my gun against my shoulder and stared down the scope, seeing the SUVs that poured onto the property. Our guys fired from everywhere, from behind the house and the other buildings. It was a fucking war zone.
I focused my aim on the guy in the driver’s seat, and the second he opened the door and stepped out, I fired.
It was a headshot—and he was down. “Shoot. Reload.” I opened the barrel and dropped the bullet into place before I cocked the gun. “Breathe.” I took a deep breathand steadied my gun before I redirected my aim to someone else and fired.
Headshot.
“Repeat.” I released the breath I’d been holding and did it all over again. I tried to pick off as many guys as I could to cover the men below and reduce the number who made it into the house. There was literally nowhere for me to run. I was fucking trapped.
I continued my shots until a spray of bullets hit the window, and glass shattered on the floor.
I dodged out of the way and pressed my back to the wall, watching bullets hit the dresser and the opposite wall. I breathed and waited for the gunfire to finish, and when it did, I waited a few more moments longer.
I crept closer to the edge and peered along the side of the house.
I saw a group of them run up the stairs then disappear from my view.
“Fuck, they’re in the house.” I put down the rifle and grabbed the shotgun instead. I made sure it was loaded with two bullets and the safety was off before I stood in front of the desk and waited for them to come for me.
It was no coincidence that they’d hit the vineyard when my father and his inner circle were somewhere else.They probably wanted to clear the place out and loot the guns from the warehouse.
But they also might want to take me.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew how men played their games.
“Like fucking hell they’re taking me.” I stared at the furniture that blocked the door and then heard the gunfire that sprayed it. It was so loud I thought my eardrums both popped and I’d become permanently deaf, but after a couple seconds, my hearing returned.
I moved behind the desk for cover and listened to them continue to blow the doors and the furniture, chunks of wood flying and bullet holes piercing all of it. I could see the light change through the holes as they moved around on the other side.
My hands started to shake as I gripped the shotgun. “He’s coming.”
They started to slam into the doors to break through all the compromised furniture. Bang. Bang. Bang.
I left the desk and looked out the window. Gunfire still ricocheted, and it was a twenty-foot drop to the ground. I’d probably break one or both of my legs in the fall, and then I really would be fucked.
I looked out to the road, hoping to see my father’s SUVheaded this way, along with a line of cars behind him—but I saw nothing.
“Fuck.”
Then an explosion burst against the door, as if they’d used a grenade to break it down. Flames immediately erupted along with a cloud of smoke that made it hard for me to breathe.
I rose from the desk with my shotgun ready and saw the furniture being shoved aside by a man in the front.
I aimed the shotgun and fired, hitting him right in the chest. I cocked the gun to drop the next bullet into the barrel. I wanted to roar in ferocity and terror, but I kept my shot and focused, waiting for the next asshole to come through.
