Elena’s POV "Dante, come with us!" I screamed, the sound lost in the screech of metal as the elevator doors groaned under the Morettis' assault from above. "I can’t," Dante rasped, his face a ghostly pale under the smears of blood. He didn't look at me; his eyes were fixed on my father, who was cowering in the corner. "Someone has to hold the line. Someone has to make sure they don't follow you into that tunnel." "Mama, please! We have to help him!" Leo sobbed, his small hands pulling at my dress. I looked at the weapon locker. The biometric pad was still red. I looked at the tunnel door—my only path to safety. And then I looked at Dante. He was dying on his feet, yet he was standing taller than any man I had ever known. "The keys, Elena! Move!" Dante roared, his voice cracking as he coughed up a spray of crimson. I lunged for the desk, grabbing a heavy ring of keys. I scrambled to the back of the locker and found the hidden latch. With a heavy click, the steel panel slid
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