Page 43 of Dark Obsession

I tighten my hold on Elena, pulling her close and bracing myself against the overturned table, my body shielding hers. The heat and noise are overwhelming but all I care about is keeping her safe.

The blast fades, leaving behind the sharp smell of smoke, the screech of fire alarms, and distant screams. The air is thick with smoke, dust, and debris.

Slowly, I release Elena, my heart still hammering in my chest. I run my hands over her, checking for injuries, making sure she’s okay. She’s rattled, but she’s fine.

I rise to my feet, surveying the wreckage. The conference room’s a mess—glass everywhere, chairs toppled over, the windows blown out. Smoke seeps in from the hallway.

I hear shouting and footsteps below us, down near the entrance. It’s pure chaos, people scrambling, trying to make sense of what just happened.

"What the hell is going on?" Elena asks.

I move to the window, looking down. Through the smoke and haze I spot figures moving—fast. Men heavily armed, spilling out of the wrecked van.

“It’s the cartel. They’ve come to finish the job.”

“Jesus, in a hospital, Grigori?”

“Stay put,” I tell Elena, my tone leaving no room for argument even though I know damn well she hates being told what to do. Sure enough, she shoots me a look like she’s ready to argue, but something in her eyes shifts. She knows how bad this is. After a moment, she nods.

I pull out my gun, then reach down to my ankle holster and pull out a second one. I hand it to her, my eyes locking on hers.

“Remember what I always tell you, princess?”

She grips the gun, a small smirk on her lips. “Never hesitate.”

I lean in and kiss her—fast and hard. Then I’m gone, moving into the hallway.

The place is in absolute disarray. Doctors and nurses are shouting orders as patients rush for cover, the smell of smoke hangs in the air. It’s a goddamn nightmare, and all I can think about is how the cartel doesn’t give a fuck about the innocent lives they’re putting in the crossfire.

Cowards.

I grit my teeth, my rage building. They’ll pay for this. Every single one of them. They came here to finish the job, to take Elena or kill her—or both. And I’ll die before I let that happen.

I push forward, scanning the area for threats. Through the hysteria, I hear more shouting, followed by gunfire. They’re moving fast but I’m faster.

I rush to the stairwell, taking a quick look to make sure it’s clear.

I’m sure the cartel did their homework. They know exactly where Elena is. My gut twists at the thought, and I move faster, pushing through the hall until I reach the room where I left her.

I swing the door open. She’s already on edge, the gun I gave her in hand and pointed at the door. "What’s going on?" she asks.

“We need to move, now,” I tell her. Her eyes widen but she doesn’t hesitate.

“What about my brothers?” she asks.

“They can handle themselves,” I reply, my voice gruff. “Right now we need to get you the hell out of here.”

She nods, slipping into the role of survivor like it’s second nature. No fear in her eyes, just determination. That's my girl.

I grip my gun tighter. "Stay close."

We move quickly into the hallway, my mind racing through the options. Elevators are out of the question—too risky. The stairs are too obvious. We’d be walking right into a trap.

I stop a maintenance worker, grabbing his arm as he rushes by. “Is there another way out of the building?” I demand.

The guy looks panicked, eyes wide, but he manages to stammer, “S-s-service stairs, other side of the building.” He rattles off quick directions.

Elena stays close, following my lead as we weave through the chaos.

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