Tiffany gritted her teeth as three men stepped out of the car.
Gunfire exploded behind her—sharp, violent cracks tearing through the air as Kyle's men engaged the attackers. The echo bounced off metal and concrete, mixing with the screech of tires and shouted commands. The smell of burning gunpowder clung to her lungs, thick and suffocating.
The man in front of her raised his gun.
She reacted on instinct.
The bullet tore past her shoulder as she twisted aside, gravel biting into her boots. She lunged forward, daggers flashing under the harsh sunlight, steel slicing through air before striking their foreheads with brutal precision.
Blood sprayed.
But they didn't stop.
Gunfire answered her blades.
Her movements turned feral—fast, sharp, desperate. Her boots screeched against asphalt, dust flying with every pivot as bullets ripped past where her body had been seconds ago. Her heart thundered in her ears, drowning out everything except survival.
Then she saw it.
