Chapter 8 - BREACHING THE VAULT
In the underground medical bunker, the heavy steel security doors—designed to withstand a tactical bomb blast—groaned under the impact of heavy hydraulic charges.
Sofia threw her arms around Marco, pulling her fifteen-year-old brother into the reinforced panic room corner, while the private nurse barricaded the inner door with a steel medical cart.
"What's happening?!" Marco yelled over the deafening alarms, his asthma inhaler clutched tightly in his shaking hand.
"Stay down!" Sofia shouted, her heart hammering against her ribs like a sledgehammer.
Gregor hadn't acted alone. He had activated a sleeper cell of mercenaries inside the estate—men smuggled in under legitimate contractor credentials over the past month—to infiltrate the bunker while Damian was distracted at the greenhouse.
The outer blast door exploded inward in a shower of sparks and pulverized concrete.
Two masked men in tactical gear poured through the smoking breach, automatic rifles raised, scanning the room with ruthless efficiency.
"Target secured," one barked into his shoulder mic. "Moving to extract the old woman."
Sofia acted purely on adrenaline. Grabbing a heavy oxygen tank from the resuscitation cart, she hurled it with all her might at the lead operative’s legs. The heavy steel cylinder slammed into his shin with a sickening crunch, sending him crashing to the floor.
The second operative whipped his rifle around, his cold eyes locking directly onto Sofia.
"Bitch," he snarled, squeezing the trigger.
Sofia closed her eyes, throwing herself over Marco.
Crack.
The gunshot echoed like thunder in the confined space—but the bullet didn't hit Sofia.
The mercenary’s head snapped sideways in a mist of crimson and bone as a round tore through his throat from behind. He dropped like a stone.
Framed in the smoking wreckage of the blast door stood Damian Volkov, his pistol smoking, his eyes burning with a rage so absolute it belonged to an avenging angel of death.
Behind him, Nikolai and the loyal guards flooded the bunker, neutralizing the remaining intruders in seconds.
Damian sprinted across the room, dropping to his knees beside Sofia and Marco.
"Are you hurt?" he demanded, his hands frantically searching Sofia’s arms and face for blood.
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"We're fine," Sofia gasped, tears finally spilling over her lashes as she gripped his jacket. "Mom is okay. Marco is breathing. We're okay."
Damian pulled her into his chest in a fierce, crushing embrace, burying his face in her dark hair. For the first time since she had met him, the terrifying mafia boss looked entirely human—a man holding onto the only things that kept him anchored to the light.
