Chapter 6 - The Visitor at the GateBack at the Lake Forest mansion, the afternoon sun cast long, golden rays across the manicured lawns.
Clara was sitting on the back patio with Noah, teaching the boy how to stack smooth river stones into a tower. To her astonishment, Noah hadn't thrown a single object, screamed, or hid in a closet for six hours straight. He was quiet, focused, and occasionally handed her a stone with a hesitant, fleeting glance.
"You're good at this," Clara whispered, smiling gently.
Noah didn't speak, but he leaned slightly closer to her shoulder, a microscopic gesture of trust that felt heavier than gold.
Inside the glass-walled study, Dominic watched them through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His phone buzzed violently against the mahogany desk. He picked it up, his expression darkening instantly as he read the caller ID.
"Speak," Dominic answered, his voice turning to ice.
"Mr. Vale," a frantic voice crackled through the secure line—one of his private security heads stationed in the city. "We have a situation at St. Jude’s Hospital in Cicero. An operative breached the boy's uncle's room. Tyler Reed went into cardiac arrest ten minutes ago. He's stabilized now, but it was a message."
Dominic’s fist clenched so hard the phone's plastic casing creaked under the pressure. "Who?"
"We don't know yet. But they left something behind." The security guard hesitated. "A calling card. The same insignia found on the mercenaries who hit your sister's car three years ago."
The silence in the study became absolute.
Dominic hung up without a word. He looked back out through the glass patio doors. Clara was laughing softly as Noah’s stone tower finally collapsed, sending pebbles rolling across the slate tiles.
They were coming for her family because of him. Because Clara had crossed the threshold of the north wing, his enemies now considered her a target.
Before Dominic could step outside to warn her, the front security gates echoed with a loud, metallic screech.
A sleek, black unmarked SUV had rammed straight through the automated iron gates of the Lake Forest estate, shattering them like glass. Armed guards poured out of the woods surrounding the property, shouting commands, but they were too late.
The SUV drifted across the pristine gravel driveway, slamming to a halt right in front of the main steps.
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The back door flew open, and a man in a blood-stained suit stepped out, holding a terrified, weeping woman by the hair.
It was Clara’s mother.
