Chapter 13: The Burning Tower

The sleek sedan violently hopped the concrete curb, smashing through the lowered security boom of the private underground parking garage.

The immediate scent of thick, acrid smoke instantly invaded the vehicle’s air filtration system. The massive subterranean garage was normally brightly lit and pristine. Today, it was plunged into terrifying, absolute darkness, illuminated only by the erratic flashing of emergency strobe lights.

Thomas slammed on the brakes, the heavy car violently skidding to a halt directly in front of the private VIP elevator bank.

Before the tires completely stopped moving, Dominic threw the car door open.

“Stay in the car with Thomas,” Dominic ordered Khloe, his voice leaving no absolute room for debate or negotiation. “Do not open this door. Do not roll down the window. If I am not back in exactly ten minutes, Thomas drives you straight to the private airstrip. Do you understand me?”

“No,” Khloe said, climbing out of the car right behind him. The thick, gray smoke instantly burned her eyes and coated her throat in a bitter film.

“Khloe, get back in the goddamn car!” Dominic roared, physically grabbing her shoulders to shove her back inside the armored vehicle.

“I am not sitting in this car waiting to become a widow!” she screamed right back in his face, coughing violently against the smoke. “They used me to orchestrate this entire attack. I am going up there with you.”

“They have heavily armed men in our home!” he argued, his fingers digging painfully into her arms. “You do not have a weapon. You do not have training. You are going to get yourself killed.”

“Then give me a weapon,” Khloe demanded, thrusting her hand out aggressively. “You always carry a backup piece on your ankle. Give it to me.”

Dominic stared at her as if she had grown a second head. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Give me the gun, Dominic,” she stated, her voice dropping into a register of terrifying, cold authority that perfectly mirrored his own. “I am the wife of the boss. Start treating me like it, or get out of my way.”

For three agonizing seconds, Dominic just stared at her. The heavy smoke curled aggressively around them, stinging their lungs.

Slowly, with deliberate hesitation, he reached down into his ankle holster. He pulled out a compact, matte-black 9mm pistol.

“The safety is off,” Dominic instructed rapidly, pressing the cold steel firmly into her trembling hands. “Keep your finger completely off the trigger until you are ready to destroy whatever is in front of you. You point it at the center of their chest, and you do not hesitate.”

“Center mass,” Khloe repeated softly, her fingers gripping the heavy weapon. It felt alien and completely terrifying in her hands.

“Thomas,” Dominic called out to the driver, who had his own weapon drawn and was anxiously scanning the dark perimeter of the garage. “Secure the elevator shaft. If anyone comes down who isn’t us, you put them in the ground.”

“Understood, boss,” Thomas replied, taking a tactical stance behind the engine block of the sedan.

Dominic turned back to the private elevator. The heavy brass doors were slightly pried apart, indicating the power had been aggressively cut to the main lines.

He dug his thick, scarred fingers into the gap and violently forced the doors open with a sickening grind of metal. The elevator car was sitting exactly on their floor.

“The override access stairs,” Dominic whispered, pointing to a heavy steel door adjacent to the elevator bank. “We are walking up. Stay directly behind me. Do not make a single sound.”

The climb was absolute agony. Fourteen flights of concrete stairs in complete, suffocating darkness. The only sound was the heavy, rhythmic thud of their boots and the increasingly loud wail of the building’s fire alarms echoing from the floors above.

Khloe’s lungs burned aggressively, but she didn’t dare slow down. The heavy pistol in her hand felt like a massive lead weight, completely foreign and terrifying.

When they finally reached the fourteenth floor landing, the heavy steel fire door was already propped wide open. Thick, black smoke was aggressively billowing out into the stairwell, smelling heavily of burning leather and melting plastic.

Dominic held up a single fist, signaling her to stop. He pressed his back completely flat against the concrete wall, slowly inching his head around the doorframe to scan their private foyer.

He looked back at her, his dark eyes completely unreadable. He held up two fingers.

Two men.

He pointed to his own chest, then held up a single finger, indicating he would take the first target. He pointed to her, then tapped his heavy boot on the floor, instructing her to stay put.

Khloe nodded once, her heart violently slamming against her ribcage.

Dominic didn’t hesitate. He spun violently around the doorframe, moving with absolute, terrifying fluid silence.

Khloe heard a muffled, sickening thud, followed instantly by the wet, horrible sound of a body collapsing onto the expensive hardwood floor.

“Clear,” Dominic whispered sharply.

Khloe stepped out of the stairwell, her weapon raised with violently shaking hands.

The foyer was completely destroyed. The beautiful, warm rugs she had spent months picking out were soaked in water from the emergency sprinkler system. The heavy gas fireplace had been completely shattered, glass violently scattered everywhere.

And lying completely motionless on the floor was a massive man in tactical gear, his neck twisted at an utterly impossible, horrific angle.

Dominic stepped casually over the body, moving purposefully toward the main living area.

“Marcus,” Dominic suddenly called out into the smoky gloom.

Khloe flinched, gripping her gun tighter.

Slumped heavily against the shattered marble of the wet bar was Marcus, Dominic’s head of private security. The man was bleeding profusely from a massive gunshot wound in his shoulder, desperately holding a towel against the injury.

“Boss,” Marcus choked out, coughing violently up a splatter of blood. “I’m sorry. They hit us fast. They had access codes to the private elevator.”

“How many?” Dominic demanded, kneeling quickly beside his lieutenant.

“Four,” Marcus wheezed, his face incredibly pale. “I dropped two of them. You got the guy in the hall. There’s only one left.”

“Where is he?” Dominic asked, his voice completely devoid of panic.

“He’s not looking for files,” Marcus whispered, looking directly past Dominic to make eye contact with Khloe. “He bypassed the main office completely. He’s in the master bedroom, boss. He’s looking for her things.”

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