Chapter 18 - The Gathering StormI didn't hesitate for a single second.
"Bring her inside," I ordered, turning to my lead captain who had rushed to the doorway with a submachine gun ready. "Luca! Secure the perimeter. Seal every biometric lock on the estate. No one enters, and no one leaves."
"Boss, what are we looking at?" Luca asked, his eyes narrowing as he recognized Thomas.
"We're looking at a war," I said, pulling my custom Sig Sauer from my holster and checking the magazine. "Get the armory open. Issue tactical gear to every man on the payroll. We're going to hunt down every last rat from the Moscow board before the sun comes up."
Thomas carried Sofia out of the backseat. The four-year-old was asleep, her face tear-stained, clutching the same cashmere blanket she had draped over my chest months ago.
I walked over, gently lifting her out of her father’s arms, holding her tightly against my chest just as I had done that rainy night in the living room.
"Mr. Daniel...?" she murmured sleepily, her big brown eyes fluttering open. "Are the bad men here?"
"No, sweet pea," I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead—the first time I had ever shown such vulnerability to another human being without hesitation. "You're safe with me. I promise you, nobody is going to hurt you."
Sofia closed her eyes again, snuggling into my jacket, fast asleep within seconds.
I handed her gently to Thomas, who was weeping silently in the grand foyer. "Take her down to the reinforced panic room in the basement. Maria’s safehouse logs are in my study. Once Sofia is secure, meet me in the tactical garage."
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"Daniel..." Thomas looked up, his eyes shining with profound gratitude and grief. "You don't have to do this. This is my war."
"It was your war when you walked through my door, Thomas," I replied, cocking the slide of my pistol with a sharp, metallic click. "Now? It's personal."
