Page 20 of Malicious Claim (Dark Inheritance #1)

Run, Rabbit, Run

Crete's estate was very secure.

It was built and designed in a way that made enemies think long and hard before attempting to launch an attack from within. Which was why in all of its days, it had only been attacked twice.

Now, it felt like every structure was built to keep one woman in. Leila.

Leila had spent time snooping around to figure out some of its hallway and blind spots. She knew there were cameras, knew there were guards, but she also knew they wouldn’t believe she was capable of assaulting them, much less attempting an escape.

Makros was too arrogant for that. He thought he had broken her, thought that he had her too exhausted and resigned to fight back. But he was wrong.

Leila since her arrival had made him feel like she was helpless, even though not entirely, since she frustrated something in him. But that didn't change the fact that he had underestimated her.

The moment she was finally alone again in the bedroom, she got to work.

She reached for her hair, grateful to find that the hairpins were still in place. She had wanted to do that earlier but that stupidly handsome devil, Stefanos, had stopped by.

Now, she bent over her wrist, pulling out one of the pins and it into the keyhole of the cuff. Her fingers were steady, her breath controlled. She had been taught this trick by her father, and she never knew she would be using it someday under a real and not theatrical scenario.

“Daddy, you really taught me a lot about survival.”

The first cuff clicked open, freeing her from the bedpost.

She wasted no time with the second one. She removed the handcuff from her wrist, tossing it onto the floor. Rising swiftly, she crossed over to the door, moving with purpose.

The cameras would catch her immediately as she stepped out of the bedroom, but she only had to make it to the garage. That part of the house was unguarded.

Most of the men were stationed outside, focused on protecting the perimeter, not watching a woman they assumed was married to their boss.

Leila slipped through the hallway, her body pressed against the wall cautiously. She heard voices, low mumbles and laughter, just as she caught sight of two guards. Heart racing, she ducked behind a marble pillar, narrowly avoiding one guard's gaze.

“Phew, that was close.”

As she rounded up a corner she spotted one guard with a gun strapped to his side and instinctively took two steps back.

The moment he passed, she stepped out swiftly, driving her elbow into his throat, which silenced him before he could raise an alarm. As he stumbled back disoriented, she grabbed his gun from its holster and slammed the butt into his temple. He crumpled to the floor without a sound.

Good.

She broke into a run.

The garage was up ahead and it was an open space. The Cretes had an entire collection of luxury cars lined up like trophies, but she didn’t need anything flashy. What she needed was something fast that was easy to operate and at best a little bit sturdy.

She scanned the options.

The black Audi. It seemed alright.

She smashed into the window with the gun's butt, unlocked it and slid into the driver’s seat, her pulse hammering. She hot wired the car. The sound of the engine roaring to life was pleasant to her ears. The tires screeched as she gunned it from zero to sixty miles per hour in about three seconds.

The guards outside would hear it, but it didn’t matter. By the time they could react, she would’ve been gone.

She could see the gate, but a deafening shot rang out as she neared it. The windshield shattered, glass raining down as a bullet narrowly missed her head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

She jerked the wheel hard, forcing the car into a sharp swerve. In the rearview mirror she saw three men with their weapons raised at her and shouting into their radios.

She had floored it.

Despite being locked, the gate didn’t stop her. Instead, she pressed harder on the accelerator, bracing for impact. The Audi smashed through, the force crumpling the front, the hood wrenching open. She had made it to the road. At last freedom.

Then came another shot, and the back tire exploded.

The car went out of her control, spinning violently. Leila fought with the wheel, but it was useless. She had been going too fast.

The vehicle slammed sideways into another, a black Rolls-Royce belonging to one of the club-goers.

Everything around her seemed to turn upside-down before everything went black.

Some several miles away, Makros’s men were moving a shipment of firearms through a quiet industrial dock, the containers loaded and ready for transit.

Dragon leaned against a stack of crates, watching as the workers moved with synchronised harmony and effort. Everything was going smoothly.

He checked his watch, exhaling.

The dockmaster, a short, nervous man named Pietro, hesitated. “Everything has been accounted for, sir. We’ve triple-checked.”

Dragon wasn’t yet satisfied.

Then, a beam of headlights caught their attention.

A single black van rolled up to the dock entrance, its tires crunching against the gravel.

“The fuck is this?” Dragon wondered aloud.

The van’s side door slid open, revealing some masked men, their guns drawn at them.

“What the hell–”

The masked men opened rapid gunfire into the shipment crew. Dragon drew his gun, cursing. They had been ambushed.

Dragon ducked behind a crate, barking orders at his men. “Fall back! Do not let them get to the truck!”

The truck carrying the main shipment was already revving its engine, trying to make it out before it was overrun. But one of the attackers hurled a grenade, which blew the truck up as soon as it made contact.

The mysterious van’s door shut, taking off.

Dragon, gritting his teeth, stepped out from behind the crates, emptying some bullets at the spending van. But it caused no real damage to stop it. Makros was going to lose his mind and cut his balls off.

When Leila came, her head pounded like a rock band’s drummer had been rehearsing in it. Her entire body ached from the force of the crash. She blinked against the blur of her vision and tried to push herself up, but rough hands grabbed her, yanking her out of the wreckage.

She barely had time to fight back before something slammed into her temple.

Darkness again.