Page 102 of Beautiful Ruins
Tone leaned closer to me and whispered, not quite low enough, “He acts like a man who’s afraid of another assassination attempt.”
Archie didn’t miss a beat.
“I am,” he replied.
Tone blinked.Then gave a slow nod.
We were still standing there, mid-conversation, when the first gunshot rang out.
It came from somewhere beyond the trees lining the property.Distant—but unmistakable.
The sound tore through the air like a rocket, sharp and violent enough to silence the air around it.
Tone went completely still.
My stomach dropped.
Archie didn’t move at first.He simply leaned forward slightly, his posture changing in a way that was subtle but immediate—like a switch flipping somewhere deep inside him.
His head tilted.Listening.
One finger lifted slowly to his lips.
“Quiet,” he murmured.
Another volley followed.Closer this time.
Three shots in rapid succession.Then two more a second later.
The sound cracked across the estate, bouncing off stone and steel until it felt like it was coming from everywhere at once.
My pulse spiked so hard it made my ears ring.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
Archie didn’t answer.He was still listening.
His eyes narrowed slightly, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he processed the rhythm of the shots—the spacing, the distance, the direction they were coming from.
This wasn’t panic.It was calculation.The way someone listens when they already know what gunfire means.
Another burst.This one louder.Too close.
Archie exhaled once.
“Well,” he remarked, his voice eerily composed, “it seems we have uninvited guests.”
Tone’s head shot toward the front doors.
“You’re joking.”
Another crack of gunfire tore through the estate.
This time it came from the direction of the front gate.
The sound was no longer distant.It was advancing.
Archie was already pulling his phone from his jacket.
