I swore the entire property shook.
Then it happened again, like a mighty roar from a jungle cat.
“Shit, what’s happening…?”
I left the pool and wrapped a towel around my wet body as I headed up the stairs to the courtyard.
Grave was screaming at one of his guys. Screaming. Red in the face. “Bring him to me alive! I will put him under and harvest all of his organs as he fucking lies on the table, fully aware and paralyzed. Do it!”
Was he talking about Cauldron?
Grave grabbed the eight-seater table and threw it across the courtyard. Knocked over a put containing a large olive tree. It tipped over and shattered. Soil everywhere. Then he stormed off into the estate and shattered the glass in the door because he threw it back so hard.
Fuck, he better not be talking about Cauldron.
I was dead asleep when I heard it.
A loud crash. Like a tank against a solid brick wall.
I jerked up in bed, my eyes still closed because my body wasn’t ready to wake up. I stayed that way for a while, my ears straining for more information. Maybe it was just a dream. Wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened.
But then I heard yelling.
And some gunfire.
Oh fuck, shit was going down.
What if it was Cauldron?
I threw off the sheets then darted to the window in nothing but my t-shirt and panties. I yanked the curtains so hard half the material fell off the rungs and slid toward the floor. My eyes squinted into the darkness, seeing the iron gate that closed off his property from the main road. A cobblestone wall surrounded the rest of his estate. I saw three black vehicles drive past the open gate. The gate was crushed as if they’d mowed it down with force or attached an explosive device to the center. Dead bodies were on either side of the path, shot down in their invaders’ procession.
It wasn’t Cauldron.
He wouldn’t need to break down a gate to get inside. He wouldn’t need to kill anyone either. He could walk right in there without a gun because he was untouchable.
“Shit…”
My bedroom door flung open. “Come on.” Grave stood there in dark clothes, a bulletproof vest strapped over his chest.
I didn’t hesitate before I grabbed my sweatpants from the floor and yanked them on as I ran toward him.
He shoved a pistol into my hand. “Know how to use this?”
I felt the cold bite of metal and gave a nod.
“Follow me.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’re going to hide.” He went downstairs, past the kitchen, and into a back storage room cluttered with boxes of cleaning supplies and canned goods. There was a crack in the floor that was hardly noticeable. The only reason it attracted my attention was because Grave put a suction device on it then yanked it open. “Go.”
I looked down the stairs into an underground wine cellar. “What about you?”
He stared me down, time standing still like his enemies weren’t directly upon him. “Is that concern I detect in your voice?”
“Just because I don’t want you to die doesn’t mean I love you.”
“But it also means you don’t hate me.” He nodded to the hole. “Go. We don’t have time.”
“Call Cauldron for help.” I put the gun in my pocket and climbed down the stairs.
“Even if I did, he wouldn’t get here in time.” Once I was halfway down the stairs toward the floor, he started to shut the door. “I can handle this. There’s a light in the ceiling and flashlights stowed away. If I don’t come back for you, wait a day before you leave.”
“But—”
He shut the door.
I was covered in complete darkness. Couldn’t even see my nose on my face. The air was stale down here. Kinda dusty too. I reached for the ceiling for the light he mentioned, and after ten minutes of groping around in the dark, I found the string. I gave a pull, and the details of the cellar became visible.
There must have been hundreds of bottles of wine.
More than just wine. There was also olive oil too, its own collection.
Despite my safety below ground, I heard the distant sound of gunfire.
Whoever wanted to kill Grave…must be a madman.
The cellar had its own pantry, so I opened it and found flashlights, along with water and canned goods. Grave must have kept these things down here in case of an emergency. There was also an automatic rifle. It was the same one that Cauldron had acquired the yacht. I traded it for my handgun and hung the strap over my shoulder.
It was more than just a cellar. There were narrow hallways underground that led to other parts of the house. I pointed my flashlight and explored, seeing exactly where it went. The farther I went, the more I could hear the plumbing, like a dishwasher was on and using water. I kept going and listened to the silence, straining for the sounds of conversations or gunfire.