Chapter 4 - Blood and Porcelain“Stay behind me,” I ordered, drawing the Beretta and flicking off the safety with a sharp, metallic click.
Elise didn't listen. Instead of retreating, she gripped the heavy brass fireplace poker tighter, her stance shifting into a low, balanced crouch that looked suspiciously like professional combat training. Before I could question her again, the door to the nursery anteroom burst open, showering the floor with splinters and shards of expensive imported lacquer.
A large man in tactical gear stepped through the breach, a suppressed submachine gun raised and scanning the dark hallway.
He never saw the brass poker coming.
With a speed that defied logic, Elise lunged forward from the shadows, swinging the heavy metal rod in a violent, horizontal arc that caught the intruder square across the temple. The impact sounded like a baseball bat hitting a side of beef. The man dropped instantly, hitting the floor with a heavy, boneless thud, his weapon clattering across the Persian rug.
“Clear!” Elise breathed, stepping over the unconscious body without a flicker of hesitation.
I stood frozen for a fraction of a second, my weapon leveled at the empty doorway, my mind struggling to reconcile the gentle woman who danced with rubber gloves three hours ago with the ruthless operative currently standing in my hallway.
“Who are you?” I demanded, stepping over the fallen mercenary and keeping my gun trained on the dark interior of the nursery.
“Someone who has a very personal score to settle with the man who owns that face,” a cold, smooth voice echoed from inside the children’s room.
I stepped through the shattered doorway, and my blood turned to ice.
Standing beside Maisie and Rosie’s cribs was a tall, immaculate figure wearing a tailored gray suit that looked completely out of place in a nursery. In his gloved hand, he held a sleek, customized pistol pointed casually toward the floor.
Victor Vance.
The man who was supposed to be sitting in a maximum-security federal penitentiary three states away.
“Surprise, Julian,” Vance smiled, his eyes cold and dead behind expensive designer frames. “Did you really think a few government prosecutors and a judge could keep me locked away forever? Money builds walls, but it also buys the keys.”
Maisie, startled by the intrusion, let out a terrified wail, followed instantly by Rosie’s frantic screaming.
Vance winced slightly at the noise, his gaze shifting briefly to the two infant cribs with visible disgust. “Ugly little things, aren't they? It’s a shame. But then again, collateral damage has always been my specialty. Just ask your late wife, Sarah.”
The air left my lungs. The room began to spin.
May you like
“What did you say?” I choked out, the Beretta shaking in my grip for the first time in my life.
“Oh, didn't you know?” Vance chuckled darkly, taking a slow step toward the cribs. “That little car accident four months ago wasn't a random patch of black ice on the highway, Julian. It was a message. And tonight, I’m finishing the delivery.”
