The explosion at the front gate shook the crystal chandelier above the dining table. It rattled like bone against bone.
"Stay here!" Lorenzo commanded. His voice was like a whip. He didn't wait for Amara to answer. He grabbed his jacket and disappeared down the marble hallway with four armed men, their heavy boots thumping against the floor.
Amara stood alone in the candlelight, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was her chance. The guards were distracted by the sirens and the screaming tires outside.
Rule One: Do not leave the mansion without an escort. "I don't care about his rules," she whispered to the empty room.
She kicked off her uncomfortable high heels and ran toward the kitchen. Her bare feet made no sound. she found a heavy wooden side door used by the staff. She pushed it with all her strength. It groaned, then opened, and the cold, wet night air hit her face.
She ran. She didn't look back. She stayed off the lit paths, her feet sinking into the damp grass. The main gate was a war zone of black SUVs and orange muzzle flashes, but she saw a smaller service gate near the far stone wall.
She reached the iron bars, her lungs burning. She grabbed the handle and pulled.
It didn't move. It was locked.
"Looking for this?"
The voice was deep, smooth, and right behind her. Amara froze. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was. The scent of expensive tobacco and rain told her everything.
Lorenzo was standing just three feet away. He wasn't even breathing hard. He looked at her bare, muddy feet, then up at her terrified eyes. In his hand, he swung a small silver key.
"I told you, Amara," he said, stepping into her space until she was backed against the cold iron bars. "The gates are locked. And I am everywhere."
He reached out and gripped the back of her neck—not to hurt her, but to keep her still. He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as a second explosion lit up the sky behind them.
"You broke the first rule on your very first night," he whispered, his grip tightening just a fraction. "Now, I have to decide if I should punish you... or if I should let the Moretti men outside have you. They aren't as 'merciful' as I am."
Amara looked past him and saw a bullet strike the stone wall near his head. He didn't even flinch. The "sin" of keeping her alive was starting a war, and he looked like he was enjoying it.
"Please," she sobbed, her strength leaving her.
"Inside. Now," Lorenzo ordered. He didn't wait for her to walk. He picked her up effortlessly, throwing her over his shoulder like a prize.
As he carried her back toward the mansion, Amara realized the truth. The men outside wanted her dead, but the man holding her wanted her forever. She wasn't sure which was worse.
Amara is back inside, and Lorenzo is not happy. Should we move to Chapter 6: The King's Mercy, where she faces her first punishment?