Chapter 4 - The Betrayal of a King
Dominic moved with the grace of a predator who had spent his entire life studying his prey. He didn't run; he stalked. I kept the lamp base raised, my muscles coiled, my mind searching for a weakness. He was a professional; I was a paramedic. I didn't know how to fight like a soldier, but I knew how to stabilize trauma—and I knew how to create it.
"Alessio is coming back," I said, trying to buy time. "He’ll kill you."
"He’ll be too busy grieving to kill anyone," Dominic said, pulling a silenced pistol from his holster.
He didn't fire. He wanted to toy with me. He wanted to make sure I understood exactly what I was losing.
"You think you saved the boy," he said, gesturing with the weapon. "You just delayed the inevitable. The bead was a message. A warning. Alessio refused to take it."
"He's a child, Dominic."
"He’s a pawn," he corrected.
I took a step back, my heel catching on a cable. I tripped, the lamp base clattering to the floor. Dominic laughed—a short, dry sound—and stepped forward to finish it.
That was when I triggered the fire suppression system.
I had spotted the manual override on the wall the second I entered the basement. I lunged for it, slamming my palm against the release.
A deafening hiss erupted from the ceiling. A cloud of halon gas filled the room, cold and suffocating. It wasn't intended to harm, but it was designed to displace oxygen entirely. Within seconds, the room was a fog of gray.
Dominic gasped, his eyes watering, his weapon wavering. He stumbled, the gas affecting his vision and his balance.
I didn't waste the opportunity. I lunged at him, not with a weapon, but with my weight. I tackled him at the knees, the shock of the impact sending us both sprawling onto the concrete. I grabbed his wrist, twisting it with every ounce of strength I had, and the pistol skittered across the floor.
He roared in frustration, shoving me off. I scrambled back, but he was on his feet, his hands around my throat.
The world began to blur. The lack of oxygen in the room was working against me, making every movement feel like wading through deep water.
"You... are... an... annoyance," he choked out.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. But I could reach. My hand brushed against the tool belt I had grabbed from the nursery earlier. My fingers closed around a heavy-duty medical shear.
With a final, desperate burst of energy, I jammed the shears into his shoulder.
He screamed and released his grip, stumbling back against the server racks. I gasped for air, the cold halon gas burning my lungs. I didn't wait for him to recover. I scrambled for the door, my legs shaking, my lungs screaming for oxygen.
May you like
I burst into the hallway, just as the sound of tires on gravel announced the arrival of the SUVs.
Alessio was back. And he wasn't alone.
