Chapter 2 - THE SIEGE OF GLASS AND STEEL"Rosa, take the babies into the panic room under the master suite," Nathan commanded in a low, dangerous tone, ripping off his stethoscope. "Lock the reinforced steel doors from the inside. Do not open them for anyone except me."
"What about you, Dr. Pierce?" Rosa whimpered, clutching the two warmed infants against her chest while Lily leaned weakly against her shoulder.
"I’m going to welcome my brother-in-law," Nathan said, his eyes darkening with a fury he hadn't felt in his forty-two years of life.
He carried Lily down the secret stairwell himself, gently laying her down on the plush couch inside the soundproof, bulletproof panic room beneath his estate. He kissed her cold forehead—a gesture he hadn't performed for anyone since Sarah was a child. "Stay here, Lily. Uncle Nathan is going to fix everything."
"Don't let him take Owen and Ethan," Lily whispered, clutching her mother's silver bracelet. "He said he was going to sell them..."
Nathan’s heart stopped. Sell them. Marcus Kane wasn't just a petty criminal or an abuser; he was a human trafficker deep in debt to criminal syndicates.
Nathan locked the heavy steel door, hearing the automated pneumatic deadbolts slide into place with a heavy, satisfying THUD.
He raced back up to the main floor. The glass mansion was stunning, architectural perfection—and an absolute death trap. Surrounded by sheer windows on three sides, he was a sitting duck in a lit aquarium.
Nathan ran to the master control panel and slammed the blackout shutters switch. Heavy titanium blinds began to roll down over the massive glass panes, but they were agonizingly slow.
CRASH!
The floor-to-ceiling glass near the grand entryway shattered into ten thousand sparkling diamonds as a heavy steel crowbar smashed through. A blast of sub-zero arctic wind and blinding snow rushed into the heated living room, instantly blowing out the fire in the hearth.
Through the swirl of white snow stepped three heavy figures clad in tactical winter gear and carrying dark, silenced weapons.
Leading them was Marcus Kane.
Marcus had aged horribly over seven years. His face was scarred, his nose crooked, his eyes wild and bloodshot with the frenzy of an addict who knew his time was running out.
"Nathan!" Marcus roared over the scream of the blizzard wind, shaking snow off his heavy coat. "Where are my kids, you arrogant doctor bastard?!"
Nathan stood in the center of the dark room, holding a heavy titanium orthopedic surgical rod he had pulled from his medical chest. "Sarah is dead, isn't she?"
Marcus let out a cruel, barking laugh. "Sarah was a weak, traitorous bitch who didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. She thought she could take my insurance policies—those three brat kids—and run to her wealthy, self-righteous brother! Where are they, Nathan? Give them to me, or I swear to God I’ll tear this mountain down brick by brick!"
"You touch one hair on their heads," Nathan said softly, stepping into the dim light of the emergency lamps, "and you won't live to see the dawn."
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Marcus smirked, raising his hand. The two armed mercenaries beside him leveled their suppressed automatic rifles straight at Nathan’s chest.
"Shoot his knees," Marcus ordered casually. "Let's see how well the big surgeon operates without his legs."
