Chapter 18 - The Traitor’s Mask
The sharp cracks of automatic rifle fire echoed down the sterile hallway. Concrete dust rained down as bullets chewed through the walls.
"Ambush!" Dante roared, dropping to one knee and returning fire through the doorway.
Sebastian didn't hesitate. In a split second, he shoved Claire into a reinforced specimen storage alcove, throwing his own body over hers to shield her from the ricocheting lead. Claire felt the sheer power of his frame, the rock-hard muscle, and the steady, unyielding beat of his heart against her chest.
"Sebastian!" she gasped, clutching his shoulders.
"Don't move," he whispered into her ear, his voice deadly calm. "I have you."
With a single fluid motion, Sebastian pivoted around the doorframe, firing two precise, suppressed shots. Two armed assailants in unmarked tactical gear collapsed into the corridor.
Dante and the remaining Moretti guards pushed forward with brutal, synchronized efficiency, cutting down the mercenary squad in less than sixty seconds. The echoing gunfire ceased, replaced by the groans of the dying and the hiss of severed pipes.
"Clear!" Dante called out, breathing heavily. "One survivor, boss. Winged him in the shoulder."
Sebastian stepped back, offering his hand to Claire. He checked her over with frantic, searching eyes. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine... I'm fine," Claire breathed, though her heart was hammering. "Are you?"
"Never better," Sebastian said, his eyes turning to black ice.
He walked out into the corridor where Dante was pinning a wounded mercenary against the wall. Sebastian reached down, ripping off the attacker’s ballistic mask.
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed in lethal recognition.
"Julian?" Sebastian said softly.
Claire gasped. Julian was one of the senior administrators at St. Jude’s Hospital—a man who had worked closely with Claire’s father for over a decade.
"You..." Claire stammered. "You were my father’s assistant!"
Julian spat blood onto the polished tile, laughing through a grimace of pain. "Your father was a coward, Claire. He thought he could keep the Moretti legacy caged in test tubes and foster homes. But genetic supremacy... bloodlines with that much power and fortune... they belong to the highest bidder."
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Sebastian drew his pistol, pressing the cold barrel directly between Julian’s eyes. "Who bought my unborn children, Julian? Speak, or I will peel you apart layer by layer."
Julian’s grin turned grotesque. "You're too late, Moretti. The auction ended tonight. And the buyer... is already inside your house."
