“You were like a brother to me. And I was your servant,” Frank spat. “Always in your shadow.
Always cleaning up your messes. Never getting the respect I deserved.” He raised the gun and pointed it at Clara.
“And now she’s ruined years of planning, so here’s what’s going to happen…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Tony’s shot caught him in the shoulder, spinning him around.
Frank’s gun went off, the bullet hitting the ceiling. He staggered, clutching his wound with a look of disbelief.
“You… you shot me?” “You pointed a gun at a woman in front of the Boss?” Tony said coldly. “What did you expect?” Victor walked slowly around the table.
He picked up Frank’s gun, cleared it, and tossed it aside. “Get him out of my sight,” Victor said quietly. “Take him to the holding room.
I’ll deal with him later.” As the guards dragged a screaming Frank away, Victor turned to Clara. She was shaking, tears streaming down her face, but she stood her ground.
“You saved him again,” Victor said. Clara could only nod. Luke broke free from his mother’s grip and ran to Clara, throwing his arms around her waist.
“You’re not leaving, right? You can’t leave.” Victor looked at Clara over the boy’s head. In the mogul’s eyes was something she hadn’t seen before.
Genuine gratitude. And a hint of profound respect. “She’s not going anywhere,” Victor said firmly.
But as the security team secured the house and Mary led Luke upstairs, Victor and Clara both knew one truth. The war had just begun. The attack came at midnight.
Clara was reading to Luke when the first explosion shattered the windows of the east wing. The boy screamed. Clara threw herself over him, shielding his body from the flying glass.
“Get down!” she yelled over the wail of sirens. Outside, gunfire erupted. Automatic weapons, close and getting closer.
Clara grabbed Luke and rolled off the bed, dragging him toward the bathroom. It was the only room without windows, the safest spot. “Clara, what’s happening?” Luke asked, his voice trembling.
“Bad people are trying to hurt your dad!” Clara said, trying to sound steady even though her heart was racing. “But we’re going to be okay, I promise!” She locked the bathroom door, sat Luke in the tub, and pulled the curtain.
“Stay there, don’t move, not a sound!” “Where are you going?” “I’m staying right here with you!”
Clara grabbed a heavy metal towel rack and wrenched it from the wall. Not much of a weapon, but it was something. More shots, right outside now.
Shouting in a foreign language, then in English: “Find the boy! The Sterling Group wants the boy!” Clara’s blood ran cold.
This wasn’t a random hit. This was a sweep. And Luke was the target.
She stood in front of the tub, gripping the metal bar. Her nursing training hadn’t included combat, but years on the street had taught her survival. “Fight dirty.
Fight hard. And never, ever give up.” The bedroom door kicked open.
Three floors below, Victor Roman was fighting his own war. Frank’s confession had revealed the scale of the betrayal. Six men in his organization were working for the Sterling Group, waiting for the signal.
That signal had come tonight while Victor held Frank in the basement. First, they’d blown the generator, plunging the estate into darkness. Then the breach teams came—professionals with night vision.
But Victor Roman hadn’t survived thirty years in this business by being unprepared. “Tony, take Mark and hold the west stairs!” Victor shouted, firing back and dropping two attackers in the foyer. “Dan, get to Luke’s room, now!”
“On it, Boss!” Dan ran for the stairs. But a burst of fire caught him in the leg.
He went down. Victor’s heart hammered. If Dan didn’t get to Luke, if those animals got to his son… He grabbed Tony by the collar.
“Watch my son. Nothing else matters. You hear me? Nothing.”
Tony nodded and disappeared into the dark stairwell. Victor turned back to the attackers pouring through the shattered front entrance. He recognized some of them—Frank’s men, people he’d trusted.
A cold, absolute rage filled him. “You want to die in my house?”
Comments are closed.