The night descended into pandemonium.
Shotguns blazed like cannons, screams down corridors, the grand house shook at another attack. Isla stood still at first, bracing against the wall as men strode past her with guns. Smoke drifted in through broken windows, and pungent tears of fire and gunpowder filled her. This was it. The moment she had been waiting for.
Her heart pounded as she slid down the hallway, moving with the silent precision Dante had taught her. Stay out of sight, use the shadows, and be careful with each breath. These were the lessons she learned watching him, feigning concern to survive. Now they were used on him.
Outside, pandemonium was the ruling force on the grounds. Dante's men fought Luca's soldiers, bodies hitting each other, knives flashing, and the sounds of gunfire ripped the night apart. The gates that had looked so spick-and-span were now lying open, broken by the force of the attack.
