Chapter 4 - The Night of the Wolves
The storm raged violently against the reinforced glass windows of the Moretti estate.
Inside the master suite, Emma gasped as another contraction seized her abdomen. She gripped the edge of the mattress, her knuckles turning white. The pain was a sharp, twisting knife in her lower back, far more intense than the mild Braxton-Hicks contractions she had experienced weeks prior.
"Breathe, Emma, just breathe," Dr. Elena Vance—no relation to Marcus, but the highly skilled head of Adrian’s private medical staff—said gently, checking the monitors. "You're only thirty-five weeks. We need to try to stop these contractions if we can, but your blood pressure is too high to risk certain medications."
"Where... where is Adrian?" Emma panted, her forehead slick with sweat.
"He’s on his way back," the doctor reassured her, but Emma could see the subtle tension in the medical team’s movements.
Suddenly, the lights in the mansion flickered once, twice, and then died completely.
The room was plunged into pitch-black darkness, broken only by the flashes of lightning from the windows. A second later, the estate’s backup generators hummed to life, casting the room in a dim, red emergency glow.
Through the heavy oak door of the master suite, the distant, unmistakable sound of a silenced gunshot echoed.
Emma’s heart leaped into her throat. They're here.
The door burst open, and Nathan Briggs stepped inside, a submachine gun held tightly in his grip. His face was covered in rain and blood. "Doctor, get Emma into the panic room behind the closet. Now!"
"What’s happening, Nathan?" Emma cried out, clutching her stomach as another wave of pain washed over her.
"Vitucci’s men bypasses the outer gates," Nathan said, his voice tense as he scanned the corridor outside. "The mole shut down the perimeter alarms before we could neutralize him. We’ve got at least a dozen armed hostiles on the grounds. The boss is five minutes away, but we have to hold the line here."
Dr. Sloan and a nurse quickly helped Emma off the bed. Emma could barely stand, the weight of her pregnancy and the agony of the contractions making every step an uphill battle. They scrambled into the master closet, where Nathan pressed a hidden button on the wall. A heavy steel panel slid open, revealing a small, fortified bunker equipped with emergency communications and medical supplies.
Just as the door began to slide shut, the glass window of the master bedroom shattered.
Emma screamed as the sound of heavy gunfire erupted right outside the closet. Nathan returned fire, the deafening roar of his weapon echoing through the suite.
"Stay down!" Nathan yelled over the din of battle.
Inside the panic room, Emma collapsed onto a small cot, curling her body around her stomach. The pain in her abdomen was getting closer, more frequent. She could feel the dampness of her water breaking.
"Dr. Sloan..." Emma gasped, tears streaming down her face. "The baby... she’s coming. Now."
Outside the heavy steel door, the gunfire suddenly stopped.
A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the suite. Emma held her breath, her hand gripping the doctor’s arm.
Then, the sound of slow, heavy footsteps approached the closet door. Someone was trying to override the electronic lock from the outside. The digital panel on the inner wall sparked, the green light turning to an ominous, flashing red.
Emma closed her eyes, praying for a miracle.
The steel door groaned as a hydraulic crowbar began to force it open. A gap of a few inches appeared, revealing the dark, masked face of a Vitucci hitman. He raised a silenced pistol, aiming it directly into the room.
Before he could pull the trigger, a massive hand grabbed the man from behind, dragging him backward into the darkness.
A brutal, violent struggle erupted outside. Emma heard the sound of wood shattering, flesh striking flesh, and a bone-chilling snap.
A moment later, the steel door was pushed fully open.
Adrian Moretti stood there. His coat was gone, his white shirt torn and stained with blood. His chest heaved, and his eyes were wild with a primal, protective fury. But the moment his gaze fell on Emma, the violence vanished from his expression.
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He dropped his gun and ran to her side, falling to his knees beside the cot.
"Emma," he choked out, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm here. I've got you. You're safe."
