Chapter 8 VAULT OF LIES #2
Taking a deep breath, I press my thumb against the last sensor. The box pops out. Elias grabs it and takes it to the nearby table, the thugs hovering nearby.
Sweat beads on my forehead, and my legs shake. I grip the table for support. I need to stay strong—I can’t panic now.
His men fidget and pace, their eyes darting toward the exit. Their guns are steady in their hands.
I shrink behind Elias.
The Judas. The man betrayed all of us.
And yet, I still feel safer behind him than anywhere else in this room.
Elias rummages through the papers in the box.
The blond catches my stare and taps the gun barrel against his palm. He winks and mouths something I don’t catch. Something vulgar.
I look away. Acid roils in my stomach. Elias retrieves an envelope—Mom’s letter I’m supposed to open when I turn thirty-five. An ache flares behind my sternum. I treasure this letter. It’s one of the few things Mom left me. Why does he want it?
He slides it into his pocket. “Done. Pack it up, gentlemen.”
We file back into the main hall.
Will they let me live? I’ve seen their faces. They’ll never let me walk away.
Dread punches my gut, and just when I open my mouth to ask Elias, the world stops.
“What’s going on here?”
A familiar voice. The commanding tone. No. Shit, no. Security is supposed to come. Not him.
I look up, finding Maxwell staring at us. His gaze takes in the guns, the thugs, Elias, and me.
“Lana? Elias? What’s going on?”
I can’t answer him.
“Run,” I mouth. “Run.”
Maxwell stiffens. “Elias, what’s the meaning of this? Let go of her.”
The devil tightens his arm around my waist, tension obvious in his muscles. But his voice is casual and calm. Like we’re talking about the weather.
“Lana was just showing me around. Thinking of getting a box here. She was helpful. Why don’t you head to the lounge and I’ll join you later.”
To explain. To BS. To lie to him.
My brother eyes the guns. I can see his mind working. Calculating.
“My men were just being careful,” Elias adds with a chuckle. “I have many enemies.”
He tells the blond, “Put away your gun. We’re in the safest place in Manhattan.”
The thug slowly holsters his weapon, his gaze frigid.
Maxwell narrows his eyes, then he looks at me again.
I force my expression into calmness—the men will kill him if I do anything wrong.
“Fine,” Maxwell murmurs.
Relief sags my shoulder as I watch my oldest brother walk away.
Don’t turn back. Don’t do anything stupid, Maxwell. Don’t. You have a wife and a kid.
But I know him too well. And he knows me too.
He yanks the emergency alarm.
Loud sirens blast throughout the building. People pour out of their offices. Steel shutters drop, locking the vault. Security—finally—storms out of the stairwell doors.
“Take them out. No survivors,” the blond shouts, voice gleeful.
I scream as someone plows into me, knocking me onto the floor. My knees crack against the marble. Pain flashes white behind my eyes.
Gunfire explodes and mayhem swirls around me.
People drop like boulders in a rockslide. Screams, terrifying screams, ricochet off the marble.
I curl into a ball, my hands covering my head. I’m shaking so hard my teeth clack. I don’t want to die. Not like this.
Suddenly, the scent of dry vetiver and smoke wraps around me.
Elias is covering my body with his. He shoves me into a corner.
“Stay here. Don’t move.”
His warmth leaves me, and Maxwell shouts in the distance. “Lana, go! Fucking go.”
I come to my senses and scamper to my feet.
Acid rushes up my throat as I see the bloodshed for the first time.
Bodies everywhere, streaks of red tagging the walls and the floor. My stomach lurches. The world tilts, and for a second, I think I’m going to black out.
Three of the four thugs remain standing, mad laughter ripping from their mouths.
Crimson soaks the blond’s hair, his lips twisting into an unhinged smile as he shoots the guard next to him. A gut shot. Then a headshot.
Bob, the new concierge, lunges forward—only to be caught by a knife. Once. Twice. The thug doesn’t blink. He exacts his violence until Bob collapses onto the floor.
I just talked to Bob last week. We had coffee together. His wife just had a baby.
My feet move before my mind catches up. Maxwell has a gun in his hand—I don’t know how he got it—he’s taking out soldiers who look like the thugs.
More bodies drop around me. More gunfire. Smoke invades the air.
I duck as someone screams, my body still moving toward Maxwell.
Almost there. A few more steps then I’ll reach him.
A gun barrel presses against my temple.
A muscular arm pins me against a heated body.
“Call your men off, or I’ll blow her brains out,” Elias commands.
Maxwell freezes. He lowers his gun and yells, “Down, everyone. Stop. Weapons down.”
Steel digs into my skin. I shake. My vision tunnels. All I can see is the horror in my brother’s eyes.
“Shhh. You’re okay,” Elias murmurs, his voice soothing, like he’s calming a crying child.
Crazy. This man is nuts.
“Don’t do this, Elias,” Maxwell tries again. “You want something from us? Just ask. I’ll give it to you. All of this. Yours.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot movement. Alfred, our head of security, charges—
Bang.
Bullet to the forehead. His body crumples, his lifeless eyes staring into nothing.
The blond laughs—the sound sharp and manic. He kicks Alfred’s body and drags his boot through the blood like a child smearing paint.
He grins at me.
Then he aims his gun at Maxwell.
My mouth parts in a scream, then I—
Bang. Bang.
Two shots crack behind me.
My heart stops.
Maxwell jerks, his eyes wide, then he looks down. Rivers of crimson spread across his dress shirt. His face twists in pain, and he collapses to the ground.
“No!” I cry.
I turn around.
Smoke curls from Elias’s gun.
Not the blond’s.
Elias’s.
He did this. This monster who stood in our home. Came to family weddings. Who pretended to be one of us.
Fury scorches through my veins. The monster has the gall to appear shell-shocked, his fingers white-knuckled around his gun. His gaze, heavy with something resembling regret, snags on Maxwell for a beat.
But the expression vanishes.
An inhuman scream rips out of me, and I launch myself at him.
Elias blocks my attempts and hefts me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
I kick, scratch, and bite. Anywhere I can reach. Feral with hatred.
“You shot my brother! You fucking piece of shit! Just kill me now because if I don’t die, I’ll make the rest of your fucking life a living hell!”
Elias ignores me, carries me into the elevator, and enters the override code.
I thrash in his hold, trying to break free.
But it’s useless.
Through the ringing in my ears, I hear the blond’s wild and gleeful laugh as the thugs continue their slaughter.
But I barely notice.
All I can see is Maxwell, the brother I’ve looked up to my entire life, lying lifeless on the white marble floor, his blood pooling around him as the elevator doors close.
My brother. My protector. My anchor.
Shot by the man he trusted.
Shot by someone I thought was, at worst, a shadow in our midst.
Shot by Elias Kent.
“I’ll kill you,” I scream.
Then, a sweet, sickly smell fills my lungs.
Darkness drags me under.