Chapter 5 - The War Room at DawnThe private armory hidden behind the mahogany bookshelf in my home office smelled of gun oil, cold steel, and old leather.
I stood before the open vault, pulling out a matte-black Sig Sauer P226, checking the magazine, and sliding it into my shoulder holster. Next came a titanium tactical blade tucked neatly into my boot lining. Beside me, Elizabeth was methodically sliding a suppressor onto the barrel of a customized HK MP5 submachine gun with the practiced ease of someone who had spent a lifetime in the shadows.
"You know how to use that?" I asked, glancing sideways at her.
"Better than you, probably," she muttered without looking up. "Julian taught me before you chased him out of the city."
I didn't take the bait. Right now, past grievances didn't matter. Only survival mattered. Only protecting Alex mattered.
"Vincent thinks he's walking into a coronation," I said, sliding my suit jacket over my shoulders, adjusting the fabric so the weapon was entirely concealed. "He's bringing his personal detail—twelve of the most ruthless enforcers from the docks division. Marcus Thorne will be right beside him."
"Good," Elizabeth clicked the suppressor into place with a satisfying clack. "That means they'll all be gathered in one place. No collateral damage in the streets. Just a clean sweep."
"It won't be clean," I warned, stepping toward the hidden elevator shaft. "It's going to be a bloodbath. Once we step foot in that boardroom, there's no turning back. Either Vincent dies, or we do."
Elizabeth paused, her hand resting on the metal frame of the elevator door. She looked back toward the hallway leading to Alex's bedroom.
"What about him?" she asked quietly. "If we don't make it back before sunrise... what happens to your son?"
"He's not staying here," I said firmly, pulling out my encrypted satellite phone and dialing a nine-digit code. "I have a safehouse in upstate New York guarded by men who don't answer to Vincent or the board. A private chopper is landing on the roof in ten minutes to take him there."
Elizabeth let out a slow breath of relief. "Good."
The private elevator chime pinged softly. The heavy steel doors slid open, revealing the dark, polished interior descending straight down into the subterranean parking garage where my armored Maybach waited.
Before we stepped inside, Elizabeth stopped and turned to face me directly.
"Andrew," she said, her voice dropping to a serious, uncompromising tone. "After this is over... after Vincent and Marcus are dealt with... what happens to me? Do I go back to being the enemy?"
May you like
I looked down at her. The woman who had sworn vengeance against me, who had slipped into my home under false pretenses, but who was also the only person in the world who had brought my son back from the silent abyss.
"When this is over," I said quietly, stepping into the elevator and holding out my hand for her to join, "we'll talk about the rest of our lives. But first... we have a kingdom to take back."
