The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 837

In the Diamond Room, the great window lay in pieces across the table, and the bright noon light came pouring through the hole with the cold wind off the harbour, salt and broken glass.

Nora had both hands in Alex's old jacket. She could feel him breathing, slow and easy.

"Get the girl," one of the men said.

The man with the gun stepped over the glass, the sun flashing on the barrel. He looked at Alex's face, then past his shoulder at Nora's white coat.

"There you are, Miss Hale," the man said, almost kindly. "Come out now. Nobody wants to spoil that pretty face. Your father pays, you go home. Simple."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Nora said. "My father won't pay a cent to men like you."

"Everybody's father pays," said the man. "Ten million, and you're home for supper. Twenty if you scream."

"I'll pay you myself." Her voice cracked. "My bag. It's on the table. Take it. Take my cards. Take my watch. Just go."

"Hear that, boys? She's bargaining." Somebody laughed behind him. "Cards they can stop in a minute. A Hale girl they can't."

"Please…"

"Tie her hands," said the gun. "Tape her mouth. We go down the way we came. Rope's still on the balcony."

Behind them Nora saw the rope hanging outside the broken window, swinging in the wind, and the long drop to the rocks and the glittering water below.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no. I can't. I can't go down that."

"You'll go down it on my back, sweetheart, or you'll go down it without the rope," the man said. "Your choice."

Her knees went to jelly. If Alex had not been in front of her, she would have fallen.

"Enough talk. Come here."

A hand shot past Alex and closed on her wrist. Nora screamed. It pulled, hard, and her shoulder burned, and her heels slid on the wet marble.

"Let go of me!"

Then the hand was gone. Alex had taken it off her, the way an adult takes a cup out of a child's fingers. She never saw him move.

The gunman's eyes jumped back to his face.

"A waiter with a bread basket," the man with the gun said. He was not laughing now. "Last time. Get out of the way."

"Alex, please," Nora whispered into his back. "Just go. They don't want you. They want me."

"I know," said Alex. "That's the problem."

"You hear that?" the gunman said to the others. "He knows. The waiter knows."

"As long as I'm here," said Alex, "nobody touches her."

"Then die."

The gun came up, black and close, right at Alex's chest.

Nora shut her eyes. She could not watch him die.

She heard the bread basket fly. A grunt. Metal skidded over marble.

Something heavy crashed onto the table, and oysters went everywhere, cold against her ankles.

A body hit the glass wall and slid down it, squeaking. A gun went off once, into the ceiling, and plaster rained into her hair.

Her hands were holding his jacket.

Then her hands were holding nothing.

"Alex?" Her voice came out tiny. "Alex, where are you? Alex!"

Somebody screamed, short, and stopped. Then there was only the wind, and the sea, and her own heart.

"I'm here," he said, right beside her. "Mind the glass. Your shoes are too nice for it."

Nora opened her eyes.

In the sunlight, four men in black lay among the oysters and the broken crystal. None of them moved. One was wearing the silver bread basket on his head like a hat.

"What happened to them?" she breathed. "Alex. What happened?"

"I think they slipped," said Alex. "It's very wet in here. Somebody spilled a lot of wine."

"All four of them slipped?"

"It was a lot of wine."

The door crashed open. A dozen men in black poured in, and Oscar Vale behind them, his gun out and his face like chalk.

"Miss Hale!" Oscar's eyes found her. "Are you hurt? Tell me you're not hurt."

"I'm… no." Nora touched her hair. Plaster came away on her fingers. "No. I don't think so. Who were they? What did they want?"

"Me, I'm afraid, Miss Hale," said Oscar. "They wanted to embarrass my house. Nobody touches a guest of the Grand. Nobody. You have my word."

Oscar's eyes went to the four on the floor, and then, for one second, to the man standing in front of her with butter on his sleeve. He looked away at once.

"Take them downstairs," Oscar snapped. "All four. Find out who they work for."

They carried the four out like sacks of wet sand. One of them was crying.

Oscar turned back to Nora and bowed. "Miss Hale. Mr. Alex. You can't sit in this. There is glass in the soup." He held out his arm toward the door. "The other Diamond Room is at the top of the house. It's ready for you. Everything fresh. Please, let me finish your lunch properly."

At the door Nora stopped and looked back.

The silver bread basket lay on its side by the table, with a deep dent in it, as if it had hit something very hard. One of the guns lay all the way over by the door, at her feet, twelve long steps from where any of the four had fallen.

She looked at the gun. Then at Alex's back, going out ahead of her into the corridor.

She said nothing at all.

In the corridor, voices were already running past them.

"Did you hear?" a waiter was saying. "Four killers, through the window!"

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