Chapter 8 - The Stampede
The heavy mahogany front doors swung completely open, revealing the freezing, snow-covered driveway.
I pushed the doors wide, letting the freezing winter wind rush into the stifling foyer.
"The doors are open!" Matthias screamed at the top of his lungs toward the ballroom.
Absolute chaos instantly erupted.
Sixty terrified, frantic guests surged out of the ballroom like a stampeding herd of animals.
They shoved past us, knocking over expensive vases and trampling the beautiful Christmas decorations.
I pressed myself flat against the wall to avoid being crushed by the desperate billionaires.
Matthias was completely swept up in the crowd, shoved violently out the front door and into the snow.
I stayed near the entrance, holding my stomach, ensuring no one was left behind in the burning house.
The timer in the basement had less than five minutes remaining.
I finally stepped out onto the front porch, the freezing air biting at my exposed skin.
Sirens wailed aggressively in the distance.
The panicked guests were running wildly across the snowy lawn toward the main gates.
I walked carefully down the icy stone steps, feeling a massive wave of exhaustion hit me.
We had actually survived.
Suddenly, a loud gunshot completely shattered the cold night air.
The crowd screamed and dropped to the ground in terror.
I turned around slowly, my blood running absolutely cold.
Standing on the front porch, bleeding heavily from his head wound, was Arthur Dre.
He was holding a massive hunting rifle he had taken from his private study.
He aimed the long barrel directly at my pregnant stomach.
"You ruined absolutely everything, Serena," Arthur roared, his face twisted in pure, psychotic rage.
I was standing completely in the open, with absolutely nowhere to hide.
Arthur’s finger tightened visibly on the trigger.
I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms protectively around my unborn daughter.
A second gunshot rang out, deafeningly loud.
But I felt absolutely no pain.
I opened my eyes and watched Arthur Dre drop the rifle and fall violently forward off the porch.
May you like
Standing right behind him in the doorway, holding her suppressed handgun, was Fiona.
She lowered the weapon, locked eyes with me for one single second, and disappeared back into the house.
