Chapter 23 - The Crucible of Glass
Shards of ancient Venetian mirrors and carved walnut rained down like hail as bullets pulverized the room.
Sebastian pulled Norah tight against his chest, shielding her body with his own as concrete dust filled the air. With chilling calm, he unholstered a secondary magazine from his belt, flicked his wrist, and slammed it home.
"Two shooters on the mezzanine," Sebastian said, his breathing rhythmic and controlled, the ruthless mob enforcer fully unleashed. "One covering the grand staircase, one pinned near the eastern gallery."
"You take the left," Norah said through gritted teeth, her adrenaline burning away every trace of fear. "I'll give you your opening."
"Norah, stay down—"
"Trust me!" she snapped.
Reaching into her toolkit, Norah pulled out a high-intensity jeweler’s flash torch—an industrial ultraviolet inspection light used to detect synthetic diamond fluorescence, capable of emitting five thousand lumens of blinding, concentrated white light.
She slid across the polished marble floor toward the remains of a broken floor-length mirror, angled the reflective surface toward the balcony, and flicked the switch.
A burst of blinding, concentrated radiance bounced off the glass, directly into the night-vision optics of the shooter near the staircase. A muffled curse echoed through the grand hall as the gunman stumbled backward, temporarily blinded.
Sebastian didn't hesitate.
He leaned out from behind the pillar, firing three rapid, suppressed shots. The first shooter collapsed over the balustrade, his weapon clattering onto the marble floor below.
The second shooter attempted to swing his rifle toward Sebastian, but Sebastian advanced with relentless precision, firing two shots through the wooden floorboards beneath the gunman's feet, forcing him off balance before placing a fatal round directly through his chest.
Silence crashed back over the palazzo, broken only by the lapping of the canal water against the stone walls outside.
Sebastian stood tall among the falling dust, his gun lowered, smoke curling faintly from the suppressor. He turned toward Norah, his eyes blazing with an intoxicating mixture of awe and raw possessiveness.
He crossed the room in three strides, grabbed her by the lapels of her coat, and pulled her flush against his chest. His mouth crashed down onto hers with ferocious intensity—a kiss born of survival, adrenaline, and unspoken devotion.
Norah gripped his lapels, meeting his passion with equal fire, tasting gunpowder and the sharp, metallic tang of victory.
When he finally pulled back, breathing heavily, his forehead rested against hers. "You are completely insane," he whispered against her lips.
"I’m an Vance, Sebastian," she breathed, her heart hammering wildly against his ribcage. "You knew what you were getting into."
A low groan from near the staircase broke the moment.
One of the gunmen was still alive, clutching a shattered shoulder as blood seeped through his fingers. Sebastian walked over, planting his boot directly on the wounded man's chest.
"Who hired you?" Sebastian asked, the warmth in his voice vanishing, replaced by the terrifying chill of a Chicago don. "Give me a name, or I drop you into the canal with twenty pounds of marble tied to your ankles."
The man spat blood, his eyes wide with terror. "It wasn't a Corsini... It was the American... He bought the Corsini contract three weeks ago..."
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"What American?" Sebastian pressed, digging his heel in.
"Cyrus Kane," the shooter gasped. "Your father's old banker... He’s holding the auction tomorrow night in Milan. The entire Romano empire... is on the block."
