Chapter 3 The Burning Mansion

"Welcome to the funeral, Uncle," Faisal yells over the roar of the flames, his face twisted into a manic grin. "You're both just in time to burn."

Faisal presses a button on the remote in his hand.

The heavy iron gates of the estate detonate, tearing through the air like shrapnel. Kayden throws his body over mine, shoving me down into the leather seats of the Bugatti just as the shockwave rattles the armored windows.

"Drive!" Kayden roars at his driver.

But it's too late. Faisal's men open fire. Bullets rain down on the car, shattering the rear windshield and pinging off the reinforced doors. Kayden’s security team leaps out of the SUV behind us, returning fire with heavy assault rifles. The driveway turns into a bloody warzone.

Through the chaos and the blinding smoke, I watch Faisal dive into his white Lamborghini. He peels out, speeding away into the night, leaving his men to be slaughtered by Kayden’s guards.

"Get down!" Kayden shouts, pulling me lower as another hail of bullets hits the car.

"The house," I gasp, coughing as thick black smoke fills the backseat. "My father is still in the house!"

"The house is gone, Amira!" Kayden yells, grabbing my arm. "We have to fall back!"

I look at the mansion. The entire east wing is a towering inferno, the flames licking at the dark sky. But I know my father. I know his paranoia. I know the exact blueprint of this house.

"He's in the panic room," I say, my voice suddenly dead calm. "Under the west staircase. It's fireproof."

Before Kayden can stop me, I rip my arm out of his grip, throw the car door open, and sprint toward the burning building.

"Amira! Damn it!" Kayden roars behind me.

I don't look back. The heat is suffocating, scorching my skin even from a distance. I cover my nose and mouth with the torn sleeve of my dress and dive through the shattered front doors.

The grand marble foyer is a nightmare. The chandelier has crashed to the floor, and the walls are crawling with fire. I navigate through the smoke, my eyes burning, my lungs screaming for air. I reach the west staircase, kicking aside a burning piece of debris to reveal the hidden steel door of the panic room.

I punch in the code—my father's birthday. The heavy door groans open.

My father is inside, slumped in a leather chair, unconscious. The smoke must have gotten to him before he could seal the vents.

"Dad!" I cry, rushing to him. I grab him under the arms, trying to drag his dead weight out of the room.

But as I pull him into the hallway, a massive shadow falls over me.

A man steps through the wall of fire, completely unbothered by the flames. It is the giant from the warehouse. Salvatore Moretti. His bald head is gleaming with sweat, and the jagged scar on his face twists as he gives me a terrifying smile. In his massive hand, he holds a heavy, steel machete.

"Faisal said you were stubborn," Salvatore rumbles. "I like that. I'm going to enjoy carving up your pretty face."

He raises the machete.

Before he can swing, a blur of motion slams into him from the side. Kayden tackles Salvatore into the burning wall. They crash to the floor, trading brutal, bone-crushing blows. Salvatore brings the machete down, and Kayden raises his arm to block it.

The blade tears through Kayden’s tactical jacket and slices deep into his shoulder. Blood sprays across the burning floor. Kayden lets out a guttural roar of pain, but he doesn't let go. He pulls his gun with his free hand, presses it against Salvatore’s chest, and pulls the trigger.

Bang. Bang.

Salvatore grunts, stumbling back. The giant looks down at the bullet wounds in his chest, his face twisting in fury. He glares at us, but the flames are getting too intense. He turns and disappears into the thick black smoke, retreating.

"We have to go!" Kayden yells, his voice tight with agony. His left arm is hanging uselessly at his side, blood soaking through his suit.

He grabs my father, throwing him over his good shoulder. I grab Kayden's waist to steady him, and we run.

The roof is caving in. Fiery beams crash down around us. We burst through the burning front doors just as the entire foyer collapses behind us.

We stumble into the Bugatti. Kayden dumps my father in the passenger seat and falls into the back with me.

"Go! Go! Go!" Kayden screams at his driver.

The driver floors the gas. The car screeches away from the burning ruins of my childhood home.

I tear off my jacket, pressing it hard against the gaping wound on Kayden's shoulder. He winces, his face pale as death, his breathing shallow.

"Stay with me," I whisper, tears streaming down my face. "Don't you dare die on me."

"I'm fine," he grunts, though his eyes are fluttering. "I've survived worse."

We speed down the highway, leaving the glow of the fire behind. But we are only a few miles away when the driver suddenly slams on the brakes. The tires screech in protest, throwing us forward.

I look up through the shattered windshield. My blood runs cold.

The road ahead is completely blocked. A barricade of police cars, their red and blue lights flashing against the night. Heavily armed officers are crouched behind their vehicles, their guns drawn and aimed directly at us.

And standing right in front of the barricade, holding a megaphone, is Faisal.

He isn't running anymore. He is smiling.

"Amira!" Faisal's voice booms through the megaphone, echoing over the empty highway. "You and my uncle are under arrest for the kidnapping of your father and the arson of the Al-Sabah estate! Step out of the vehicle with your hands up, or we will open fire!"

Kayden tries to lift his gun, but he groans, his arm giving out. He is losing too much blood.

I look at the police barricade. I look at Faisal. And I realize we have nowhere to run.