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🚨 THE MAYBACH BETRAYAL: FROM PAVEMENT TO EMPIRE 🚨 / Chapter 5 / 8

Chapter 5 - SHADOWS OF THE PAST

Arthur ducked behind a marble pillar just as a spray of bullets tore through the plaster above his head. Splinters and dust rained down on him.

"You're in the wrong house, friend!" Arthur shouted back, his voice steady despite the chaos. "The feds are three minutes away!"

"The feds won't save you tonight, Vance!" the mercenary barked, advancing slowly down the hallway. "Victoria paid us five million dollars to clear the board. No witnesses. No bastard heir!"

Arthur’s mind raced. Victoria hadn't just tried to kill him in a car crash—she had a private military contractor on standby as a contingency plan. She was burning the entire house down to cover her tracks.

Arthur leaned out from behind the pillar and fired three shots in rapid succession. One bullet caught the mercenary in the shoulder, knocking him back. Arthur didn't wait; he sprinted down the side hallway toward the security control center.

He burst into the room, slammed the deadbolt, and immediately pulled up the live camera feeds on the wall of monitors.

There were six heavily armed mercenaries on the property. Two were in the courtyard engaging his surviving security team, two were sweeping the second floor, and the leader was bleeding in the main hallway.

But then Arthur’s eyes locked onto Monitor 4.

A seventh person was walking calmly through the side entrance, completely unbothered by the gunfire.

She wore a sleek black leather coat, dark sunglasses, and high heels that clicked softly against the blood-stained marble. She held a suppressed pistol in her gloved right hand.

It was Victoria.

She wasn't hiding at the Grand Regency Hotel. She was here, in the flesh, to finish the job herself.

On the screen, Victoria stopped right in front of the hidden bookshelf panel in the library. She smiled at the security camera, knowing Arthur was watching.

She reached into her coat, pulled out a small black electronic device, and slapped it onto the digital keypad of the panic room. Red lights began to flash on the override lock.

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My hand froze inches from the cold steel of the Sig Sauer P226. Beneath the amber glow of the bedside lamp, the source of the warmth against my side wasn't an assassin, an operative from a rival syndicate, or a traitorous lieutenant.

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"Arthur, darling," Victoria’s voice came crackling through the room's intercom speaker, dripping with toxic sweet poison. "Did you really think a heavy door would stop me? I helped you design this house. I know every override code."

Inside the panic room, Toby backed away toward the far wall as the heavy steel door made a loud, echoing CLICK.

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