Page 86 of The Hunter's Empire

Nico peeks around the pillar. His eyes harden. "Three armed men moving toward the east staircase."

I move beside him. "I see them."

The attackers appear seconds later. The first man rounds the corner with his rifle already raised. The second follows immediately behind him while the third begins shouting something in Italian.

They never get the chance to finish. Nico fires first. The crack of his pistol echoes through the corridor. The lead attacker drops.

I fire almost simultaneously. The second man falls backward. The third barely manages to react before another shot catches him in the chest and sends him crashing into the wall.

The exchange lasts only a few seconds. But it is enough. The moment the bodies hit the floor, the corridor erupts into fresh chaos.

Guests scream. Security teams rush past. Someone shouts for medical assistance. Somewhere below us, glass shatters loudly enough to shake the walls. The estate no longer resembles a celebration. It resembles a war zone.

Rich men who spent the evening discussing politics and billion-dollar deals are now hiding behind furniture. Women wearing diamonds worth more than some people’s houses are crouched on marble floors trying not to get shot.

The illusion of power has vanished. Fear has made everyone equal.

"Move." Nico says.

The three of us leave cover immediately.

We move quickly, staying close to the walls while security teams flood the lower levels. More attackers appear in the distance. More shots are exchanged. Every hallway seems to contain another fight.

As we move through the corridor, I nearly trip when the ridiculous amount of fabric gathered around my legs catches against my ankle. I recover quickly and keep moving, but only afew steps later the gown tangles around me again, forcing me to kick free of the layers before I lose my balance a second time. By the third near-disaster in less than thirty seconds, my patience is hanging by a thread.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." I grab a fistful of fabric and glare down at it. "This dress is actively trying to get me killed."

Nico glances down.

I gesture angrily toward the ridiculous amount of material wrapped around my legs. "I should have worn something shorter."

"Obviously."

I glare at him. "You're being incredibly helpful."

Without warning, he crouches.

"What are you doing?"

"Fixing the problem."

Before I can stop him, his hands close around the lower layers of the gown. Then he tears it. The sound is shockingly loud. The fabric rips apart beneath his grip. Several layers of emerald silk collapse onto the floor.

Cold air brushes against my legs. For a moment I simply stare at the remains of what used to be a very expensive dress.

Then I slowly look up. "You owe me a new one."

"No."

"You destroyed it."

"It was ugly."

My jaw drops. "It was not ugly."

"It looked like a decorative curtain."

Roisin snorts. Actually snorts.