The Broken Legacy of a Protective Mother and a Shadowed Empire
He pressed his fingers over mine, helping me turn the key.
The lock clicked open.
I pulled the heavy iron hatch upward.
A draft of cool, damp air rushed up from the dark tunnel below.
It smelled of wet earth and decay.
“You go first,” I told the doctor.
“I can’t,” Sullivan whimpered, looking into the darkness.
“You have to,” I said, shoving him toward the opening.
“I need you to hold Luca while I climb down.”
The sounds of the battle upstairs were intensifying.
I could hear the muffled explosions of grenades from the main house above us.
Giovanni’s men were fighting Vance’s forces in the hallways.
The entire estate was becoming a war zone.
Dr. Sullivan lowered himself into the hatch, his legs dangling into the dark.
He reached up his arms.
“Give him to me,” the doctor said.
I carefully handed Luca down into the darkness.
The baby was still warm, but he did not cry.
He only made a small, soft sighing sound.
Just as I prepared to lower myself into the hatch, the red emergency lights in the bunker flickered.