Chapter 4 - The Ambush at Clare Manor
Antonio moved with blinding speed. Before the sound of the gunshot had even ceased echoing in the high-ceilinged room, his heavy frame slammed into Evelyn, dragging her down behind a massive mahogany desk as a second bullet tore through the leather armchair where she had been standing seconds prior.
Alarm sirens began to blare across the estate. Outside, heavy automatic gunfire erupted, sharp and relentless, puncturing the quiet Irish night.
"Stay down!" Antonio ordered, his voice remarkably calm despite the absolute chaos unfolding. He reached into a hidden holster beneath his sweater and pulled a sleek black handgun, racking the slide with a metallic click.
Evelyn pressed herself flat against the hardwood floor, covered in splinters and glass shards. Her heart hammered wildly in her ears. "They found us already?!"
"Leo’s men don't waste time," Antonio muttered, peering over the edge of the desk. "They must have bribed the local charter desk at Shannon to track our convoy."
The library doors burst open. Evelyn flinched, but it was Marco, holding an assault rifle, blood trickling down his temple.
"Boss! They’ve breached the outer gate!" Marco yelled over the gunfire. "It’s a strike team—six men, fully suppressed! They brought thermal optics!"
"The harbor route," Antonio commanded immediately, grabbing Evelyn by her upper arm and pulling her to her feet. "Is the boat ready at the cove?"
"Engine's idling, but we have to cut through the gardens!" Marco said, firing a short burst down the hallway to cover their exit.
"Move!" Antonio barked at Evelyn.
Evelyn didn't hesitate. Survival instincts took complete control. She shed her navy pumps, abandoning her shoes on the bloody carpet, and ran barefoot alongside Antonio down a narrow, stone-walled servant corridor.
The air was thick with smoke and the metallic tang of cordite. Behind them, heavy explosions rocked the front foyer of the manor. Evelyn glanced back to see two men in tactical gear, wearing black masks, rushing down the hall.
Antonio turned, pushed Evelyn behind his back, and fired three rapid shots. Both men collapsed instantly into the darkness.
"Keep moving!" Antonio growled, grabbing her hand. His grip was tight, warm, and rock-solid.
They burst out through a hidden cellar door into the freezing rain. The path led down a steep, treacherous cliffside towards a secluded Atlantic cove. The sharp rocks bit into Evelyn’s bare feet, but she didn't feel the pain—the adrenaline surging through her veins was deafening.
At the bottom of the pathway, a high-speed black interceptor boat bounced heavily against the dark waves.
"Get in!" Marco shouted, ushering Evelyn over the gunwale into the passenger cabin.
Antonio leapt aboard right behind her, shouting to the pilot in fast Italian. The boat’s twin engines roared to life, spraying white foam into the night as it rocketed out of the cove, leaving the burning manor and the sound of gunfire behind in the Irish mist.
Evelyn collapsed onto the bench seating inside the boat's cabin, gasping for air, her hands shaking uncontrollably, her feet bleeding onto the deck.
Antonio crouched in front of her. He pulled a clean linen handkerchief from his pocket and gently began wiping the wet dirt and blood from her ankles.
"You didn't scream," Antonio noted, looking up into her eyes with a look of genuine admiration.
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"I was too busy trying not to die," Evelyn choked out, a nervous laugh escaping her throat. "Is this how your life always is?"
"Only when I let my guard down," Antonio said softly. He looked at her bare, injured feet, then met her gaze. "I am sorry, Evelyn. You were dragged into my darkness. But I promise you... I will burn down everyone who touched that plane before I let them hurt you."
