Chapter 12 - Escaping Into The Secret Garden
Before Viktor could draw his weapon, Ricardo grabbed my arm with iron force, hauling me backward through a pair of velvet service doors.
Chaos erupted behind us in the ballroom as shouts, dropped glassware, and the sound of drawn weapons shattered the polite society evening.
Ricardo dragged me down a dimly lit service corridor, kicking open a heavy fire exit that led out into the hotel's private rooftop garden.
The cold night air hit my face like a physical blow, snapping me out of my paralyzing shock as rain began to spit from the dark sky.
He pushed me behind a thick stone pillar, pulling his pistol from its holster and checking the chamber with a swift, practiced click.
“Are you hit?” Ricardo demanded, his dark eyes scanning my body frantically for any sign of injury or blood.
“No,” I gasped, clutching my chest as the rain plastered my auburn hair against my pale cheeks. “I’m not hit, Ricardo, but they’re coming.”
“Let them come,” Ricardo replied, his voice devoid of fear, filled only with the chilling, hardened certainty of a man born for war.
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He keyed his radio earpiece, barking rapid orders in Italian to the extraction team waiting in the underground hotel garage below.
“Listen to me, Savannah,” Ricardo said, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to look directly into his fierce eyes. “You are under my protection now.”
