Chapter 8 - Betrayal in the Shadows
During the recess, the court corridors were tense. Julian had been called into the judge’s chambers along with Mikey for the private interview. I sat on a wooden bench outside, praying that the judge would see the truth.
Marco stood a few feet away, guarding the corridor.
“You spoke well, Miss Carter,” Marco said quietly, his eyes scanning the hallway. “Mr. Vance is not a man who easily trusts, but you have earned his complete devotion.”
“I just want them to be happy, Marco,” I sighed, burying my face in my hands.
Suddenly, a loud commotion echoed from the stairwell at the end of the hall. The sound of shouting and glass shattering shattered the quiet.
Marco immediately drew his weapon, stepping in front of me. “Stay here, Miss Carter.” He moved toward the sound, his radio buzzing with frantic reports from the downstairs guards. “We have an breach at the eastern entrance! Multiple armed hostiles!”
The Moretti syndicate wasn't waiting for the legal system. If they couldn't win custody, they were going to take Mikey by force, right out of the courthouse.
As Marco disappeared around the corner to reinforce the perimeter, the fire alarms began to blare, filling the hallway with a deafening screech. The overhead sprinklers activated, raining cold water down upon us.
In the confusion, the door to the judge’s chambers flew open. Julian emerged, holding Mikey tightly against his chest. His suit was drenched, his eyes wild.
“Eleanor!” he shouted over the alarm. “We need to move! The back exit!”
We ran down the smoky, water-logged corridor toward the private elevator reserved for judges. But before we could reach it, three men in tactical gear stepped out of the stairwell, blocking our path. They raised their weapons.
Julian didn't hesitate. He pushed Mikey and me behind a heavy concrete pillar just as gunfire erupted, chips of marble spraying through the air.
“Stay down!” Julian yelled. He drew a compact pistol from his waistband, returning fire with lethal precision. One of the attackers dropped, but the other two pressed forward, pinning us down.
“Julian!” I screamed as a bullet ricocheted inches from my head.
“I won't let them take you!” Julian roared. He stood up, exposing himself to the gunfire, and fired two rapid shots, neutralizing the second attacker. But the third man lunged forward, tackling Julian to the floor. The gun flew from Julian’s hand, skidding across the wet marble.
The attacker drew a knife, pinning Julian down, raising the blade to strike.
“No!” Mikey shrieked.
I looked around frantically. The gun was ten feet away, sliding across the slick floor. I scrambled out from behind the pillar, sliding on the wet marble, my fingers closing around the cold steel of Julian's fallen pistol.
I had never fired a gun in my life. But I didn't think about the recoil, or the noise, or the fear. I pointed it at the man hovering over Julian and pulled the trigger.
The gunshot was deafening. The bullet hit the attacker’s shoulder, throwing him off Julian. He crashed into the wall, groaning in pain, his knife clattering away.
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Julian scrambled to his feet, immediately taking the gun from my trembling hands. He didn't look at the fallen man. He grabbed me, pulling me into a fierce, desperate embrace, his heart pounding violently against mine.
“I've got you,” he whispered fiercely into my wet hair. “I've got both of you.”
