I came home after two years in Singapore and found my four-year-old son crawling on bruised knees while my husband’s mistress laughed and called him a little animal. / Chapter 31 / 80

Chapter 31 - The Sniper's Red Gaze

My breath hitched in my throat as Arthur’s venomous chuckle still hissed through the phone speaker. Dropping the phone, I didn't waste a split second to look up. Maternal instinct—primal, vicious, and instantaneous—took over before my conscious mind could even process the threat.

I threw my entire body over Leo, slamming us both down against the cold hardwood of the stage.

A fraction of a second later, a sharp, suppressed *thwip* shattered the silence. The microphone stand standing inches from where Leo’s head had been exploded into jagged shards of metal and sparking wire.

Screams tore through the ballroom. High society patrons, once draped in diamonds and effortless arrogance, trampled over velvet-covered chairs in sheer panic, fleeing blindly toward the dimly lit crimson exits.

"Balcony, ten o’clock!" Julian roared, his tactical composure flawless despite the blinding chaos. He raised his suppressed sidearm, squeezing off three rapid rounds into the ornate mezzanine above.

A muffled groan echoed from the upper shadows, followed by the clatter of a high-powered rifle tumbling over the gilded railing, crashing onto the marble dance floor below.

"Clara, move!" Julian yelled, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet while shielding us with his own broad frame. "That wasn't just a lone hitman. The main power grid was cut from the outside. Arthur hired a coordinated extraction team!"

I scooped Leo up against my chest. His little arms wrapped around my neck with iron strength, burying his tear-streaked face into the crook of my shoulder. But unlike two years ago, he didn't curl up like a terrified puppy expecting a beating.

"Mommy," Leo whimpered, his voice trembling but fiercely clear against my ear. "The bad men are back. Don't let them take you."

"Nobody is taking anyone, sweetheart," I whispered between gritted teeth, my heart pounding with pure adrenaline. "Mommy has you. Hold on tight."

Suddenly, three flashbang grenades arced through the smoke-filled air, exploding in blinding white flashes and deafening cracks. The main double doors of the ballroom burst open, silhouetting four heavily armed men dressed in tactical black, laser sights cutting through the billowing fog directly toward the stage.