Page 113 of Iron Roses
A stream of bullets cuts across the courtyard. One ricochets off the stone pillar beside me. The force sends a jolt through my shoulder.
Lorenzo’s voice cuts through the chaos. “Take cover!”
He’s already ahead, ducking behind a stone wall as more fire breaks out.
The team scatters—some to the right, some further to the left. The Valosi men are positioned along the windows, hidden in the shadows of the estate’s stone facade. We’re out in the open.
Allegra’s eyes flash to me.
She gestures sharply toward the ground. “Get to cover!”
I move to the left, stepping behind a heavy stone column just as another round hits the pillar, sending a dust cloud into the air.
Allegra follows.
The fire is relentless. The guards are in position, two windows above and one across from us. There’s a pause—just enough time for us to adjust.
I turn toward the others, already moving.
“Grenades,” Allegra mutters, her hands working quickly to retrieve a couple from her vest. Her fingers set the pins and toss them high.
The explosions rock the windows. Glass shatters in sharp showers, sending a ripple of debris across the courtyard.
For a moment, the fire halts. The Valosi men regroup, moving from cover to cover. They’re quick. They’re well-trained.
I make my move. I charge forward, low, moving between pillars. I close the gap between us. A burst of fire rips past me, narrowly missing my side.
I round the corner, moving further into the yard.
Lorenzo and Allegra are already ahead, covering the remaining two sides. They’re trying to corner us.
I reach the front door. Two men stand in front of it, rifles at the ready.
My fist connects with the first man’s jaw. A swing of my arm brings him down hard onto the ground. He doesn’t move again.
The man crumbles to the floor with a sickening thud. His body folds under my fist, and he doesn’t move again.
Suddenly Fausto appears, his posture relaxed, like he’s stepped in from the other side of a doorway. His eyes flick over the man lying motionless at my feet, his lips curling just enough to show his amusement.
“What’s all the ruckus?” His voice is casual, as if he’s waiting for an answer to an inconsequential question.
“Where is she?”
He looks at me, his smile widening.
“The mute speaks,” Fausto says, almost with fondness. “There’s no need for all the theatrics, Cassian,” he continues. "Guillermo Valosi and his bride-to-be are spending some quality time together, if that’s what you’re here for. Working on… implanting his seed into her, you might say.”
He lets out a low chuckle.
My fingers are already curling around the hilt of my blade, but I hold myself still.
“Elaria tried to run, of course,” Fausto continues, his voice still mockingly soft. “Stubborn bride syndrome. But no worries.” He raises his hand, signaling to the men in the corners, almost dismissively. “She’s making up with her husband as we speak. You’ll be pleased to know.”
He turns toward the hallway. “I’ll show you,” he adds with a slight smirk.
I follow him, Allegra and Lorenzo close behind, our men outside. The only sounds are the echo of our steps and the muffled groans of distant voices, growing louder as we approach.
We reach the wing of the house where Fausto leads us. He stops in front of a door, gesturing casually with a flick of his hand.
