Chapter 3 - The Traitor’s Ledger"Stay here," Dominic ordered, his voice brooking zero argument as the acrid scent of smoke began to drift up the stairwell.
"Like hell I will," I shot back, reaching down to grab a heavy brass fire extinguisher mounted to the wall. "Lily is inside that room. If you think I'm going to sit in a dark hallway waiting to be slaughtered, you don't know me yet."
Dominic stared at me for a split second—a microsecond of evaluation—before giving a sharp nod. "Watch my six. If anyone comes around that corner wearing anything other than Rosetti security black, put a hole in them."
We moved in tandem down the corridor toward the grand staircase. The emergency sprinklers hadn't activated yet, but the heat was rising rapidly, and the smell of electrical fire was overpowering. The explosion had clearly targeted the main power substation in the basement—the exact area where the estate’s physical security logs and financial archives were stored.
As we reached the top of the grand staircase overlooking the massive marble foyer below, a volley of silenced gunfire cracked through the air.
Pew! Pew! Pew!
Bullet fragments chipped the banister inches from my face, showering me with splinters. I ducked instinctively, dragging Dominic down behind the carved stone railing.
"We're pinned!" I yelled over the roar of the spreading fire downstairs.
"Not pinned," Dominic corrected, a grim, bloodthirsty smile touching the corners of his mouth. "Engaged."
From the shadows of the lower foyer, three figures dressed head-to-toe in tactical black armor advanced toward the stairs, their assault rifles raised. Their faces were hidden behind reinforced ceramic masks, but around the collar of the lead man’s vest, a distinct tattoo peeked out from beneath the fabric: a black viper, coiled in a strike position.
"Marcus!" Dominic suddenly roared, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. "Come out and face me, you coward!"
From behind one of the marble pillars, a man stepped forward, slowly lowering his tactical mask. It wasn't a nameless mercenary. It was Marcus Vance, Dominic’s impeccably dressed chief financial officer, holding a detonator in one hand and a smoking assault rifle in the other. His expensive designer suit was stained with soot, but his smile was ice-cold.
"Hello, Dom," Marcus called out, his voice dripping with venom. "Impressed with my work? It takes a lot of money to buy off your elite guard. Fortunately, I’ve been embezzling from your shipping accounts for three years. Turns out, your enemies were more than willing to fund my retirement package if I handed over the little bird."
"You betrayed my family," Dominic said softly, raising his pistol with terrifying steadiness. "After everything I gave you."
"You gave me orders!" Marcus snapped, his eyes wild with greed and madness. "You treated me like an accountant while you played emperor of Chicago! The Syndicate offered me a principality. All I had to do was leave the back gate unlocked for your daughter's birthday."
"And the man who planted the bomb?" I asked, my voice cutting through the tension.
Marcus glanced up at me, his eyes narrowing. "Ah, the stray dog. You should have stayed in the alley, Noah. You’re holding a fire extinguisher against a hurricane."
Before Marcus could finish his sentence, a loud click echoed from behind us.
I spun around just in time to see a cold barrel pressed directly against the back of my neck.
It was Viktor.
May you like
The head of security—the man who had sworn loyalty to Dominic with his life—was holding a pistol to my head, his expression completely devoid of emotion.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Hayes," Viktor whispered coldly. "Nothing personal. But the Syndicate pays better than retirement."
