Chapter 8 - Midnight Execution“The meeting with the Bellinis is at midnight,” Declan said, glancing up at the grandfather clock in the corner of the study as the long hand clicked slowly toward the twelve.
It was 11:59 PM.
“Let’s not keep our guests waiting,” Declan finished.
With a single, effortless motion, Declan’s foot stomped down hard onto the edge of the Persian rug—directly on top of the pressure trigger Liam had spent the evening setting up.
Click.
The sound was microscopic, but in the dead silence of the third-floor study, it echoed like a thunderclap.
Liam let out a primal scream of absolute terror, throwing his hands over his head and curling into a fetal position against the mahogany desk.
BOOM.
The floor beneath them shuddered violently. A muffled, concussive roar ripped through the east wing of Gallagher House, sending shockwaves through the reinforced concrete walls. Flames erupted instantly from the sub-floor ventilation shafts, consuming the hidden library annex where Liam’s four hired mercenaries had been waiting in the dark.
The blast was contained with surgical precision—engineered by Nora’s technical override to blow outward into the conspirators' sector rather than collapsing the core architecture of the study.
Smoke billowed thick and heavy into the room, smelling of scorched wool, high explosives, and burning electronics.
When the dust finally settled, the east wing of the study was a charred, smoking ruin. The heavy oak doors blew inward from the pressure wave, and across the hallway, the emergency alarms began to wail a deafening, piercing shriek.
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Liam lay coughing violently on the floor, covered in soot, soot-stained wallpaper, and drywall dust, miraculously alive but entirely broken.
Downstairs, the muffled panic of two hundred wealthy gala guests echoed up the grand staircase.
