Chapter 3: Blood and Silk
"Get down!" Julian’s voice boomed.
Before the gunmen could pull their triggers, Julian threw his body in front of the maid and Leo, pulling a sleek black pistol from his tuxedo jacket in one fluid, lethal motion.
Thwip. Thwip.
The sound of suppressed gunfire shattered the silence. Julian fired twice, his shots finding the narrow gaps in the lead gunman's armor. The man collapsed onto the marble, dark blood pooling instantly around his boots.
Julian dragged the maid and Leo behind a heavy oak sideboard. "Take the boy and run to the safe room! Now!" he barked at the maid, who scrambled away, shielding Leo with her body.
I stood frozen against the wall, my white wedding dress a massive, glowing target. A bullet whizzed past my ear, exploding the plaster right next to my head.
Suddenly, a strong, gloved hand grabbed my waist, yanking me violently into the recess of a stone pillar. I gasped, hitting a hard, Kevlar-clad chest. I smelled expensive cologne, gunsmoke, and rain.
Julian.
He pinned me against the pillar, his face inches from mine, his breathing heavy but controlled. His dark eyes searched my face, a terrifying mixture of fury and fierce protection burning within them.
"We are going to survive this night, Harper," he hissed, reloading his weapon with a brutal, practiced click. "And then, you are going to tell me every single thing you hid from me. If that boy is yours... if he is the reason you've been a ghost in my bed for three years..."
"He is my son, Julian!" I screamed over the sound of another volley of gunfire chipping away at our stone cover. Tears blinded me. "My family stole him from me! They told me they killed him so I would be 'pure' enough to marry into the Vance family! I locked him in the sunroom because I saw the hitmen outside! I was trying to keep him hidden from them!"
Julian’s entire body went rigid. The realization hit him like a physical blow. I hadn't locked Leo away out of malice. I had locked him away to keep him alive.
The gunfire temporarily stopped. A cold, eerie silence washed over the corridor.
From the end of the hallway, a heavy, slow footstep approached. A voice laughed—a dry, raspy sound that made my stomach turn.
"Beautiful story, Harper," my own father's voice echoed through the mansion. Grayson Langford stepped into the light, a smoking rifle in his hand, a cruel smile stretching across his face. "But the Vance family doesn't accept damaged goods. And tonight, I’m cleaning up your mess once and for all."
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Julian slowly stepped out from behind the pillar, shielding me completely with his body, his pistol leveled directly at my father's chest.
"You brought war into my house, Grayson," Julian said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, demonic whisper. "And you touched what belongs to me. You aren't leaving this mansion alive."
