Chapter 9 - BLOOD AND BRIDAL VEILS“Code Red!” Vincent Hale’s voice screamed over the secure intercom. “Multiple heavily armed units breaching the main gates! It’s Vinnie Rossi’s crew—they’re trying to take the estate by force!”
Damian’s eyes flashed with pure, lethal fury. In a fraction of a second, the gentle father vanished, replaced by the apex predator of the Chicago underworld.
He unholstered a pair of custom Sig Sauer pistols from a hidden compartment behind the mirror, checking the magazines with mechanical precision.
“Stay in this room,” Damian ordered Elena, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “Lock the reinforced steel shutters. Do not open them for anyone except me.”
“Damian, wait,” Elena caught his sleeve. “Ray Maddox is out there. He’s my ex-husband. He’s the one pulling Rossi’s strings. They’re after me.”
Damian paused, turning back. A cold, terrifying smile touched his lips.
“Good,” Damian whispered. “They delivered themselves right to my front door.”
He turned and bolted out the door, joining his security detail in the sprawling corridors of Mercer House.
Downstairs, the battle was fierce. Rossi’s mercenaries swarmed the grand ballroom, smashing crystal chandeliers and riddling the marble pillars with bullets. But Damian’s men held the line with ruthless efficiency.
From the shadows of the mezzanine, Ray Maddox sneaked his way toward the private stairwell, carrying a submachine gun, desperate to find Elena and use her as a human shield to escape.
“Looking for someone, Ray?”
Ray froze.
He slowly turned around. Standing at the top of the stairs, framed by the moonlight streaming through the shattered glass dome, was Damian Mercer.
The crime boss looked like a demon forged in steel. His suit jacket was torn, blood stained his white shirt, and his eyes burned with absolute death.
“Mercer—wait!” Ray stammered, raising his weapon with shaking hands. “I’m her husband—!”
“Ex-husband,” Damian corrected softly.
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In a flash of motion too fast for the human eye to track, Damian fired.
Ray never even got a shot off. He dropped his weapon, collapsing backward down the grand marble staircase, motionless before he hit the bottom floor.
