CHAPTER 191
Giordano felt dread. It was a heavy, bone-deep dread that made his hands shake as he worked. He had made this their last refuge, the one place. But his movements felt slow; every second slipped away like sand through his fingers. He was just about to lift her into the wheelchair and take her through the hidden exit when a thunderous crash shook the walls.
The sound rang out like an explosion—metal shrieked, and concrete groaned under pressure. He froze. Not a minute later, he heard the unmistakable roar of tearing steel. They had broken through. The intruders had succeeded.
His breath caught in his throat. He looked at her—still, fragile, and pale against the bedsheets. He couldn't lose her. Not again.
Giordano let go of her hand, turned sharply, and grabbed the gun from the tray beside him. The weapon glinted under the bright light, its chamber loaded with Anti-Superno syringes—poison for anything not human.
The door burst open.
