Chapter 4 - The Loyal Guard
The command echoed off the stone walls of the courtyard with absolute authority.
Brutus recognized the voice instantly. The massive Cane Corso dropped his rear legs, dropping low against the wet flagstones a split second before the shotgun blast tore through the space where his chest had been an instant prior. The heavy pellets shattered the marble fountain behind him into a cloud of white dust and sparks.
Before the mercenary could rack another shell into the chamber, Roman stepped onto the terrace.
His Kimber .45 barked three times in rapid succession. The shooter dropped to his knees, his weapon clattering onto the stones, before slumping face-down into the pooling rainwater.
"Cover!" Matteo shrieked, grabbing the metal briefcase and scrambling behind a massive stone pillar.
The remaining three mercenaries turned, opening fire on the terrace. Muzzle flashes strobed through the darkness, chewing up the intricate woodwork of the porch overhang. Splinters and glass rained down around Roman and Emma.
Roman grabbed Emma by the waist, throwing his heavy frame over hers as they hit the wet stone floor behind a thick brick planter. The heat of his body pressed tightly against her, shielding her entirely from the barrage of lead sweeping overhead.
"Can you run?" Roman growled into her ear, his breath hot against the chill of the storm.
"Yes!"
"When I fire, run for the dog. Get him inside the kitchen doorway. Can you do that?"
Emma looked across the open, bullet-swept courtyard. Brutus was shivering from the shock of the gunshot graze, his dark eyes wide with stress, but his gaze was locked entirely on her.
"I can do it," she said firmly.
Roman leaned out from behind the planter, firing four deliberate, controlled shots that forced the mercenaries to duck behind the central fountain. "GO!"
Emma didn't hesitate. She scrambled to her feet and sprinted out into the open courtyard, the icy rain blinding her vision. Bullets kicked up spurts of water around her ankles, but she didn't slow down.
"Brutus! With me!" she yelled.
The dog didn't need to be told twice. Pushing off his powerful hind legs, the black beast bounded across the slick stone, matching her stride.
They hit the side entrance of the kitchen together, tumbling through the heavy oak door onto the tile floor inside. Emma slammed the door shut and threw the heavy deadbolt into place just as a hail of bullets slammed into the reinforced wood from the outside.
She dropped to her knees beside the panting dog, her hands immediately searching his body. "Hold still, sweet boy... hold still..."
The bullet had grazed his right shoulder, tearing a jagged three-inch trench through his hide, but it was a flesh wound. The bleeding was heavy, but the muscle beneath was intact. She quickly yanked off her white apron, tearing it into strips with her teeth, and bound the wound tightly around his muscular chest.
Brutus let out a low whimper, leaning his massive ninety-pound head against her shoulder, licking the rainwater and tears from her cheek.
"Good boy," she sobbed softly, stroking his ears. "You're okay. You're okay now."
Outside, the gunfire suddenly stopped.
A heavy silence fell over the estate, broken only by the steady drumming of the rain against the kitchen windows. Emma held her breath, her hand resting on Brutus's neck. The dog's ears suddenly flattened against his head, and a low, subsonic rumble began deep inside his throat.
Footsteps were approaching the kitchen door from the inside hallway. Slow. Heavy. Unhurried.
Emma grabbed a heavy butcher knife from the kitchen block, standing up and shielding the injured dog behind her.
The kitchen door swung open slowly.
Roman stood in the threshold. His suit jacket was gone. His white shirt was soaked through with rain and crimson blood, though none of it appeared to be his own. In his left hand, he held his weapon. In his right hand, he dragged the heavy metal briefcase Matteo had tried to steal.
He stopped, his dark eyes taking in the scene: the maid holding a butcher knife, standing defensively in front of his wounded guard dog.
Roman slowly lowered his weapon, clicking the safety back on.
"Matteo is dead," Roman said calmly, stepping into the warm light of the kitchen. "The estate is secure. The threat is gone."
Emma let out a long, shuddering breath, the heavy knife slipping from her fingers and clattering harmlessly onto the island counter. Her legs gave out, and she sank back down to the floor beside Brutus.
Roman walked over, dropping the heavy briefcase onto the table. He didn't look at the millions of dollars in negotiable bonds inside the case. Instead, he knelt on the blood-stained tile right in front of Emma and the dog.
He reached out, his massive, calloused hand cupping the side of Emma's wet face.
"You risked your life for my dog," Roman said softly, his thumb gently wiping a speck of dirt from her cheekbone. "Why?"
Emma met his dark, intense gaze, refusing to look away. "Because he was innocent. And because nobody else was listening to him."
Roman stared at her for a long, silent moment. "Starting tonight, Emma Hayes, you don't clean this house anymore."
May you like
Emma blinked. "What?"
"You are in charge of this estate's security protocols," Roman said, his voice absolute and final. "And you answer only to me."
