Chapter 0305

I'm still standing wide eyed, my mouth dropped open in shock, my little phone falling from my hands when Daniel and Jerome

burst into my room. Jerome slams and locks the door behind him.

“Get down!” Daniel shouts, dashing directly for my wardrobe.

“What?” I gasp, a little stupidly — but I’m just so shocked —

“Down!” Jerome barks, running to my side and pressing on my shoulders, forcing me to my knees. He puts a hand protectively

over my head, looking all around. The gunshots continue downstairs, as well as screams and yells — everything growing louder

and more frequent -

“What the hell is going on!” I scream, frantic now with panic.

“I don’t know!” Daniel snaps back, bending over into the wardrobe and pulling up a piece of wood from the bottom, reaching

down below it and coming out with —

“Oh my god,” I exclaim, my eyes going — if possible — wider when I see Daniel emerge from the wardrobe with a silver gun in his

hand. “Did you put that there!?”

“No,” he snaps, quickly snapping the pieces of the gun apart and back together in a way I don’t understand, checking the bullets

or something. “Dad did. But obviously he didn’t tell you about it, because you'd probably kill yourself dropping it or something.”

“Jerk,” I breathe, glaring at him before spinning towards Jerome, completely freaked out now and totally confused about what the

hell is going on.

“It's a raid,” Jerome says, looking over towards the door. “I don’t know who is behind it — a rival family?”

“Not the Russians,” Daniel says, moving over to us and glancing out the window, the gun held expertly at his side. “Maybe...

Alden? But he wouldn’t — not with Fay in the house -”

I blink as I stare at Daniel, shocked — my mild-mannered bestie, who likes books and philosophy, looking like a god damn secret

agent with a gun cocked and ready by his side. He actually looks, for once, like the son of a mafia don.

What — what was happening to my life?

Was this even real?

I jump and shriek as more gunfire echoes from below, as if in answer to my question — that yes, this is indeed real.

“What's our next step,” Jerome asks, looking up at Daniel from his spot crouched down on the floor next to me. Daniel moves

away from the window now, turning towards the door.

“We wait,” he growls, positioning himself in front of us and raising the gun to point it at the door, ready to shoot whoever comes

through it next.

“Should we,” I start, thinking frantically and glancing to the wardrobe, “should we go through the wardrobe? Downstairs? Try to

find your dad?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Dad

says that if you're in a place of safety

and you don't have a clear way Sty

if you don't on oy no?

yon recoil JING 'to get away — you stay

put and defend that space until you

know what's going on. We don’t know

who is down there or what is

happening. We don’t know how to get

to acar. So, we entrench.” Please

read the original content at

.

I start to shake now with the fear and

the adrenaline coursing through

body. Jerome eNieiid evn

shaulids, \ Yh for his comfort

as much as his. “Okay,” Jerome says,

nodding and agreeing to Daniel's

plan, letting him take lead on it.

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.

And then we all...sit there. For way too long.

“Will your dad come up?” Jerome whispers, glancing again at the wardrobe.

“I don’t know,” Daniel murmurs,

glancing at him and then at me. And

then down at my stomach. And I

groan a little, st abl&to: rests

mind Brentel that Kent, if he can, will

come up here. Because I’m here. And

I'm pregnant. And his base instinct, in

all of this, is going to be to protect his

son and this new maybe-baby, even if

he is pissed at me for getting

knocked up. Please read the original

content at .