Chapter 7 - A Mother’s Ransom"Clara!"
The scream tore through the tranquil afternoon air, shattering the fragile peace of the estate.
Clara froze, the river stones tumbling from her hands. She spun around, her eyes widening in sheer, paralyzing horror as she saw her mother being dragged up the front steps by a heavily armed stranger.
Noah let out a shrill, piercing shriek—the sound that usually signaled a violent meltdown—and dove headfirst under a wrought-iron patio table, curling into a tight, trembling ball with his hands clamped over his ears.
"Mom!" Clara screamed, bolting toward the house like a missile.
"Stay back, Miss Reed!" one of Dominic’s private guards shouted, raising his rifle, but he was instantly cut down as a sniper bullet from the tree line shattered his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground.
The front doors of the mansion blew open. Dominic Vale stepped out onto the portico, not running, but walking with the terrifying, controlled grace of an apex predator. His tailored jacket was gone, revealing the dark holster strapped tightly across his chest and the heavy automatic pistol already gripped firmly in his right hand.
"You're trespassing," Dominic said, his voice carrying across the courtyard with terrifying calmness.
The man holding Clara’s mother pressed the cold barrel of a pistol against the old woman’s temple. Blood trickled down her forehead from where she had been pistol-whipped.
"Drop the weapon, Vale!" the intruder shouted, his voice echoing off the white stone pillars. "You thought you could hide the boy and bury the evidence in some backwoods estate? The syndicate wants what's left of your sister's estate, and we want the brat!"
Clara reached the bottom of the steps, panting, tears streaming down her face. "Let her go! Take me! Leave her out of this!"
"Shut up, you little trash," the gunman snarled, tightening his grip on Clara’s mother.
Dominic didn't lower his gun. His dark eyes flicked from the gunman to Clara, and for a fraction of a second, a strange, profound realization passed between them. They were both protecting someone they loved from a world that wanted them dead.
"You have three seconds to let the woman go," Dominic said softly, his voice dropping an octave lower.
"Or what? You'll shoot us both?" the gunman laughed maniacally.
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"No," Dominic replied, raising his pistol with absolute, terrifying precision. "I won't shoot you."
Before the gunman could process the warning, a deafening explosion echoed from the east wing.
