Chapter 8 - The Trap SpringsThe sun was just beginning to streak the Hudson River with bands of bruised purple and gold when the alarms went off.
It wasn't the subtle chime of a door sensor. It was a shrieking, piercing red alert that flashed strobe lights across the high ceilings of the estate.
Perimeter breach. Sector Four. Dockside entrance.
Nick was out of his study in a fraction of a second, his Sig Sauer already materialized in his hand. "Jerry! Tom!" he roared, sprinting toward the central staircase.
Jen bolted out of the guest suite, her heart hammering against her ribs. "What's happening?"
"Salvatore Morenti didn't wait for an invitation," Nick said, his voice deadly calm as he grabbed her arm and shoved her behind him toward the reinforced panic room behind the study bookshelf. "Get in there. Lock the biometric seal. Do not open it for anyone except me."
"And you?" Jen grabbed the lapel of his shirt, refusing to budge. "Nick, there are twenty of them out there!"
"I have a family to protect now," he said, and for the first time, he smiled—a fierce, crooked grin that looked terrifyingly like the boy who had stolen her first kiss behind the bleachers fourteen years ago.
He kissed the top of her head with desperate speed, shoved her inside the vault, and the heavy steel door slammed shut, locking with a definitive, hydraulic hiss.
Outside, the estate erupted into a warzone. The sound of automatic gunfire echoed through the glass walls, shattering priceless artwork and tearing through designer furniture. Jen pressed her face against the internal monitor screen, watching the security feeds with her hands clamped over her mouth.
Tom and Jerry were holding the ground floor corridor, firing back with terrifying efficiency, but Morenti's men kept pouring in through the broken dock doors like a tide of black ants.
And then she saw Nick.
Moving with lethal, cat-like grace, Nick cut through three intruders in the main foyer, his gun flashing in the morning light. But as he turned toward the courtyard, a figure stepped out from behind a marble pillar.
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Salvatore Morenti himself.
In Salvatore's hand was a heavy assault rifle, barrel aimed squarely at Nick's back.
