Chapter 3 - Breach at North ShoreDorian moved with terrifying speed. In a fraction of a second, he stepped in front of Alina, placing his body entirely between her and the open doorway, drawing a sleek, heavy firearm from a concealed shoulder holster beneath his tailored jacket.

“Stay down,” Dorian commanded, his eyes locked on the corridor.

“Dorian, what is happening?” Alina cried out, grabbing his sleeve.

“Victor Petrovic,” Dorian said coldly, referring to the ruthless syndicate leader who had been trying to usurp his shipping lanes for months. “He tracked our vehicle. He thinks he can use you to force me to hand over the North Docks.”

Gunfire echoed closer, shattering glass from the nurses' station down the hall. Dr. Mercer gasped, ducking beneath the examination desk.

Caleb and Noah returned fire from the hallway threshold, suppressing two armed intruders clad in tactical gear. The sharp smell of cordite and gunpowder drifted into the sterile medical room.

“Boss, the elevators are locked down by their tech team! We need to move to the emergency stairwell now!” Noah shouted, firing three rapid shots down the corridor.

Dorian didn’t hesitate. He turned to Alina, grabbed her hand with a grip that brooked no argument, and hoisted her up. “Can you run?”

“Yes,” Alina said, adrenaline surging through her veins, overriding her morning sickness and fear. For the first time in six months, she saw the real Dorian—not the distant executive, but the protector who would burn the world to ash before letting anyone harm her.

Dorian tucked her securely against his side, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist, shielding her as they bolted out of the examination room into the chaotic hallway.

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Bullets sparked against the tile walls as they sprinted toward the heavy fire-exit doors at the end of the wing. Caleb laid down heavy cover fire, while Noah held the rear flank.

“Through the door! Go!” Dorian ordered, pushing Alina ahead of him into the concrete stairwell just as a round ricocheted inches from his shoulder.