Chapter 4 - Blood at the Gates
"Trace complete!" Bruno shouted over the hum of the electronic gear. "Signal originated from the perimeter security watchtower by the eastern gate! That's Marcus's post!"
"Move!" I barked, drawing my Beretta and sprinting out of the nursery.
Elena was crying out behind us, clutching Sophie tightly as security guards swarmed the corridors, but I didn't look back. My children had been targeted. My bloodline had been poisoned by proxy. In the brutal calculus of the underworld, mercy was an invitation for a knife in the back, and Dante Morelle had just signed his own death warrant.
We hit the grand foyer in seconds, bursting through the massive double oak doors into the damp night air. The rain was coming down in sheets, turning the gravel driveway into a slick, black mirror reflecting the strobing red and blue lights of our armored security vehicles.
The eastern watchtower loomed ahead, its high-intensity searchlight sweeping blindly across the lawn.
As we approached the base of the metal staircase, a dark figure tumbled backward from the upper landing, hitting the concrete ground with a sickening wet thud.
Bruno and I raised our weapons, fan-spreading around the fallen body.
It was Marcus.
His throat had been neatly slit from ear to ear, his uniform soaked in dark, steaming blood. Clutched tightly in his dead, stiffened fingers was a standard-issue Morelli syndicate burner phone, its screen flashing with a single incoming video call.
I stepped over the body, kicking the phone up with the toe of my shoe, and snatched it out of the air. I swiped the screen to accept the call.
A live video feed flickered to life.
It showed a dimly lit underground chamber—concrete walls, rusted water pipes, and in the center of the room, tied securely to an industrial steel chair, was Julian Vance, my CFO.
Julian’s face was bruised and bloodied, his expensive silk shirt torn open. Behind him stood two masked enforcers holding heavy lead pipes.
"Adrien!" Julian choked out, coughing up a spray of crimson. "It's a trap! Dante has the accounts! He drained the offshore reserves twenty minutes ago using Marcus's master override codes!"
Before I could answer, a man stepped into the frame behind Julian. He wasn't wearing a mask. Dante Morelle stared straight into the camera lens, a cold, mocking smile playing across his lips.
"Enjoying the show, Adrien?" Dante asked, his voice coming through the burner phone's speaker. "By the time you reach this bunker, the accounts will be wiped clean, your CFO will be a statistic, and your estate will be surrounded by federal agents carrying warrants for your arrest based on the financial evidence I just uploaded to Interpol."
The screen flashed black.
Dead.
I stared at the blank screen of the burner phone, my mind racing through the tactical disaster unfolding around me. It wasn't just an assassination attempt on my children; it was a total corporate and financial decapitation designed to strip me of my empire before I could even draw steel.
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Bruno stepped up beside me, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. "Boss... sirens. Approaching the main gates. Three unmarked black SUVs. Federal Marshals."
The trap was closing.
