Chapter 7 - The Blood On The Stairwell
The muzzle flashes from Victoria's gun illuminated the cavernous garage in strobed bursts of blinding white light. A heavy grunt echoed from the far corner, followed by the clatter of a tactical rifle hitting the concrete floor.
"Move!" Victoria yelled, scrambling to her feet and sprinting toward the private emergency stairwell concealed behind the utility panels.
Julian didn't hesitate. He grabbed the tire iron, scrambled out from under the car, and sprinted after her. More gunfire erupted behind them, chewing through the sheet metal of the sedan and splintering the wooden workbench into toothpicks. Julian slammed his shoulder against the heavy fire door of the stairwell, throwing his entire weight behind it until it clicked shut with a deafening echo, cutting off the immediate line of fire.
They bolted up the concrete steps three at a time, their lungs burning as they climbed toward the main floor of the mansion. The red emergency lights cast long, eerie shadows across the stairwell walls.
When they reached the heavy door leading into the main hallway of the ground floor, Julian paused, pressing his ear against the cold metal. Faint, rhythmic classical music drifted through the crack in the door, clashing horribly with the gravity of the situation.
Julian pushed the door open a fraction of an inch and peered out. The main living room was completely empty of guests. The smashed birthday cake still stained the white marble floor, its pink frosting looking like dried blood under the dim overhead lights. But standing by the grand piano was Marcus.
The head of security was wiping down the barrel of a sleek, suppressed pistol with a silk handkerchief, his tuxedo immaculate, looking as though he had never broken a sweat in his life.
Julian felt a cold fury rise from the depths of his soul. He pushed the door open all the way, stepping out into the hallway with the heavy iron tire iron gripped firmly in his right hand.
"Marcus," Julian called out, his voice dangerously calm.
Marcus turned slowly, tucking the handkerchief into his breast pocket with absolute nonchalance. He looked at Julian, then at Victoria standing just behind him with her smoking pistol lowered to her side.
"Boss," Marcus said, offering a thin, polite smile. "I see you survived the welcoming committee. Shame about the cake. Lily was very fond of that design."
"You sold us out," Julian said, taking a slow step forward across the ruined marble floor. "After everything I built for you, after every secret I trusted you with."
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"Business is business, Julian," Marcus replied smoothly, raising his own pistol to point straight at Julian's chest. "And the people who own the mortgage on your entire empire want you out of the picture. Permanently."
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