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More gunshots rang out; some from the floors above, others from the distant jungle.
I had to obtain a better weapon. A handgun would be the bare minimum to keep me alive long enough to rally my own men. If Rodríguez had decided to attack my home rather than simply extracting Sofia, that meant his forces would have us hemmed in behind our walls. And since I’d invited the enemy inside our gates, I would have to organize enough manpower to take out the enemies within before focusing on bracing against a siege.
My steps didn’t slow as I mentally worked through my options. I had to keep putting distance between myself and Stefano.
Seeking help from the guards around my brother wasn’t a good idea. I suspected that the shots I’d heard within the house were concentrated on the third floor, where I’d sent Rodríguez and Ignazio to kill Pedro. More of our family’s guards were probably rushing that way now, seeking to defend their boss.
At least, the ones inside the mansion would be heading toward the interior conflict. All of our other forces would be scrambling to defend the perimeter.
My palms grew sweaty around my makeshift weapons, and I tightened my grip on the ice pick and the statue. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the endless reports of deadly weapons firing all around my home.
I’d witnessed violence plenty of times; I’d been born and raised in it. But being in close proximity to physical violence was a totally different experience to the nightmare unfolding around me. Even though I’d managed to desensitize myself to blood and gore, nothing I’d lived through so far had prepared me for the disorienting, relentless blasts of dozens of automatic rifles being fired with maximum lethal intent all around me. I felt as though I’d been dropped into the middle of a warzone.
My brain barely registered the new sound of an encroaching helicopter before a deafening boom rent the night. The polished wooden floorboards shuddered beneath my feet as the entire mansion shook and groaned.
A sharp scream echoed through the corridor. Too late, I realized the sound had burst from my own throat.
“Carmen!” Stefano’s roar reached me even through the ringing in my ears. He was inside the house. He was close.
I gritted my teeth, determined to keep my mouth locked tight. I wouldn’t scream again.
Enjoy being Queen of the Ashes. Rodríguez’s cruel words echoed in my mind as I sprinted up the stairs, recklessly making my way toward the violence on the third floor. If there was gunfire there, that meant there would be guns. I might be heading toward the heart of the conflict, but I needed a weapon and possibly my own guards, if any were still alive.
It seemed Rodríguez wasn’t content to besiege my home after Ignazio rescued Sofia. He was bombing my estate, destroying everything that was supposed to finally be mine.
If he wanted to destroy my organization, he would have to destroy me along with it. I wouldn’t go down without a fight or cower in some corner and wait for Stefano to find me. To take me away and tame me.
I ground my teeth hard enough to cramp my jaw. I would never be Stefano’s pet. I’d rather die than be owned by a man.
Never again.
Death was a far more merciful outcome than that captive hell.
Another scream pierced the hail of gunfire around the estate, but it wasn’t mine this time. I recognized my own past in the sound: fury, defiance, and despair.
Before I could fully consider my actions, my path changed. I reached the second floor and veered off to the right, rushing to get to the distressed woman. She screamed again, her rage and terror anchoring somewhere deep inside me, pulling me toward her. My own remembered rage burned through my veins, and my muscles tensed, preparing to mete out retribution.
My fists clenched around my weapons, all thoughts of requiring a gun evaporating under the heat of my fury.
Following the sound of her screams, I burst through the door to the library. The room was cast in shadow, the only illumination provided by the moonlight streaming through the ten-foot windows. Two dark shapes grappled on the floor in the center of the room; a hulking man on top, and a much smaller figure writhing beneath him.
A primal shriek tore from my chest, and I launched myself at the bastard who thought he could take advantage of a weaker woman in the chaos unfolding around us.
The fucker barely had time to turn his head and register my presence before I swung the statue down in a vicious arc, smashing the precious metal into the side of his skull. I carried momentum through the impact, shoving him away from the woman as he bellowed in pain.
