Chapter 6 - Crossfire in the HallwayThe upper gallery erupted in a deafening symphony of gunfire.

Bullets chewed through the mahogany wainscoting and shattered the remaining antique sconces along the wall. Dominic moved with terrifying, fluid precision, taking cover behind a massive marble pillar as return fire slammed into the stone inches from his face.

He dropped the first intruder with a clean shot to the shoulder, forcing the man to scramble backward out the shattered front doors.

The second intruder sprinted toward the base of the staircase, aiming his rifle straight up toward the second-floor landing where Ruby was still standing frozen in horror.

“Ruby, down!” Dominic roared.

He vaulted over the balcony railing, dropping ten feet straight down to the grand staircase, crashing hard onto the carpeted steps and tackling the gunman sideways just as the man’s rifle discharged, blowing a hole straight through the ceiling plaster.

A brutal, violent struggle ensued on the stairs. Dominic drove his elbow into the intruder’s visor, wrenching the assault rifle away and using the butt of the weapon to knock the man unconscious with a sickening thud.

The third intruder appeared from the shadows of the west wing gallery, a suppressed pistol raised and pointed squarely at Dominic’s chest as he rose from the floor.

Dominic’s weapon was out of reach, skittering across the polished hardwood floor beneath the shattered chandelier.

Time seemed to slow down. Dominic braced himself for the impact, his mind calculating angles, survival odds, and the bitter irony of dying in a house he had spent a decade turning into a fortress.

Suddenly, a loud CLANG echoed from the gallery balcony above.

Ruby stood at the top of the stairs, gripping a heavy, cast-iron Dutch oven she had grabbed from the kitchen pantry. With a ferocious scream of absolute adrenaline, she hauled back and hurled the heavy iron pot directly down at the intruder’s head.

BAM.

The heavy iron skillet caught the gunman squarely on the shoulder and helmet, throwing his aim completely off. His bullet whined past Dominic’s ear, embedding itself in the oak doorframe.

Dominic didn’t waste a millisecond. He lunged forward, sweeping the intruder’s legs out from under him and driving his fist into the man’s jaw until he went limp.

Silence descended upon the wrecked foyer, broken only by the crackle of a small fire burning near the front entrance and the heavy, ragged breathing of Dominic and Ruby.

Dominic slowly stood up, his clothes stained with soot and blood, his chest heaving. He looked up at the top of the stairs.

Ruby stood there, her hands shaking violently, staring down at the chaos she had just helped end with a piece of cookware.

Dominic vaulted up the stairs in three massive strides, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pulled her fiercely against his chest, burying his face in her curls.

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“Are you crazy?” Dominic whispered fiercely, his voice trembling for the first time in his life. “I told you to go to the panic room!”

Ruby clutched the back of his shirt, burying her face in his shoulder as the adrenaline finally crashed, leaving her knees weak. “I wasn't going to hide while you fought for your life, you stubborn idiot,” she sobbed softly against his collarbone.