Chapter 8 - THE LION’S DENThe armored SUV sputtered and finally died just outside the city limits, rolling to a silent stop in a deserted industrial alleyway surrounded by rusted shipping containers.
The steam billowing from the ruined engine hissed loudly in the freezing night air.
"This is as far as she goes," Viktor said, killing the ignition. He pulled a heavy tactical vest over his shoulders, concealing it beneath a fresh black wool coat he had retrieved from the back. He turned to Mara, his dark eyes softening slightly. "Listen to me, Mara. What happens inside that estate tonight is going to be brutal. You can walk away right now. Take the bag of money, catch a bus out of state, and start over."
Mara looked down at the heavy leather backpack resting at her feet—the cash that could solve every single problem she had walked away from. Then she looked at Viktor, and finally at Bear, who was sitting alertly in the back seat, his amber eyes fixed steadily on the city lights glowing in the distance.
"I helped drag you out of a freezing ravine, Viktor Vance," Mara said, her voice steady, leaving no room for argument. "You think I'm going to drop out before the final chapter?"
A slow, genuine smile—the first true smile Mara had ever seen on his face—touched Viktor’s lips. "God help Dante. He has no idea what he's waking up."
Ten minutes later, using a secondary utility access code that had long been scrubbed from the main security logs, Viktor, Mara, and Bear slipped through the reinforced iron gates of the Vance estate.
The sprawling mansion sat on a private hill overlooking the city, lights blazing from the upper windows. Soft jazz music drifted faintly across the manicured gardens. Inside, Dante Vance was hosting a victory celebration, toasting his new supremacy over the syndicate with his top lieutenants.
Viktor maneuvered his manual wheelchair—which they had salvaged from the trunk of the SUV—with practiced, silent grace, gliding along the shadows of the marble veranda. Mara pushed him quietly, her heart pounding against her ribs, while Bear walked close beside them like a silent, obsidian shadow.
They reached the grand double doors of the main ballroom. Through the frosted glass, figures in expensive suits moved gracefully, drinking champagne and laughing.
Viktor reached into his coat, pulled out the heavy automatic pistol, and checked the chamber with a crisp clack.
"Ready?" he whispered without looking back.
May you like
Mara took a deep breath, her fingers tightening on the back of the wheelchair. "Ready."
With a swift, powerful kick, Viktor threw open the double doors.
