Chapter 2 - The Fire in the Foyer
The ballroom erupted into instant, suffocating bedlam. The muffled gunshot went unnoticed by the drunken socialites near the ice sculpture, but the high-velocity impact of the round tearing through the heavy oak wall paneling sounded like a cracking whip. Women shrieked in unison, silk trains tearing as heels skidded wildly across the champagne-soaked marble floor. Men who had spent the evening bragging about their stock portfolios dove behind round banquet tables, overturning white linen and sending towering crystal centerpieces crashing into heaps of broken glass.
Matteo moved like an apex predator uncoiling in the dark. The moment Vivien yanked him aside, his sharp tactical brain pieced together the impossible truth: his trusted security detail had been bypassed, and his quiet, curve-hugging secretary had seen the shooter before anyone else drew breath.
With a low snarl, Matteo hooked his thick arm around Vivien’s waist, dragging her behind the massive square marble column that supported the grand archway. A second bullet chewed a jagged chunk of stone right above their heads, dusting Vivien’s pinned dark curls in fine white powder.
"Dario! South exit, now!" Matteo roared into the lapel of his jacket, where a miniature comms mic was hidden beneath his silk collar. He turned his gaze downward, his dark eyes ablaze with an intense, turbulent fury that Vivien had never witnessed before. His hands gripped her bare shoulders, his thumbs pressing firmly against her warm skin as he checked for blood. "Are you hit? Hart, look at me. Did he touch you?"
"I’m fine," she gasped, her chest heaving against the emerald gown, her fingers clutching his lapels so hard her knuckles turned chalk white. "The shooter isn't alone. When I turned your shoulder, I saw a second man near the coat check. Gray vest. He wasn't reaching for a jacket, Matteo—he had a compact submachine gun in an umbrella bag."
Matteo stared at her for half a beat, pure shock flickering across his features before settling into lethal focus. "You caught that while dragging me out of the line of fire?"
"I notice things," she breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. "It’s literally my job description."
"Not this job," he growled, though his grip on her gentled for a fraction of a second, his palm sliding up to cup the side of her neck, feeling the rapid, frantic beat of her jugular. "You stick to my back. You don’t look away, and you don’t let go of my jacket. Do you understand me, Vivien?"
It was the first time in three years he had spoken her first name with such raw, unfiltered gravity. Before she could answer, heavy gunfire erupted from the mezzanine. Russo’s men were sweeping the room, eliminating anyone in their line of sight to get to the boss of Providence.
Dario and two Bellini enforcers burst through the service corridor, pistols drawn and barking tactical commands. "Boss! They cut the main power grid to the alleyways! We have thirty seconds before their backup surrounds the vehicle!"
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Matteo didn't waste another second. He stripped his tailored tuxedo jacket off in one fluid motion, wrapping it firmly around Vivien’s trembling shoulders to shield her vibrant dress from sight. With his free hand, he pulled a custom matte-black Sig Sauer from the shoulder holster concealed beneath his vest.
"Stay low," Matteo commanded, pulling her tight against his side as bullets whined off the marble floor. "We’re walking out of here alive, Hart. And then you and I are going to have a very long conversation about why you risked your life for mine."
