Chapter 6 - Fire and Iron
The loud, piercing screech of the estate’s tactical alarm echoed through the long corridors of the mansion. Red emergency lights began flashing along the ceiling walls.
Dominic didn't panic. His training as the head of the Vale empire took over instantly.
He reached under his sweater, pulling a black semi-automatic pistol from a concealed holster at his waist. He racked the slide with a sharp, lethal CLICK.
“Stay in this room,” Dominic commanded Hannah, his voice authorative and absolute. “Lock the reinforced steel doors from the inside. Do not open them for anyone except me or my sister.”
“Dominic!” Hannah cried out, terror surging through her as she looked at the sleeping triplets in the adjoining room. “Who is out there?!”
“The people who sent you that text message,” Dominic said grimly, looking at her with a terrifying intensity. “They didn't come for my daughters, Hannah. They came for you.”
Before she could process his words, Dominic stepped out into the hallway, shutting the heavy oak doors behind him. Hannah heard the electronic deadbolts click into place automatically.
Down in the main courtyard, gunfire erupted like a sudden thunderhead.
Dominic moved through the lower level of the mansion with practiced, lethal efficiency. His security detail was already engaged with a squad of heavily armed mercenaries wearing tactical gear and unmarked black masks.
Sophia Vale stood near the main staircase, holding a sleek silver handgun, her eyes cold as ice as she fired three precise shots into an advancing intruder.
“It’s the Chicago syndicate!” Sophia yelled over the roaring gunfire as Dominic joined her behind a marble pillar. “Bernardo Rossi’s men! How did they track us to Westchester?!”
“They didn't track us,” Dominic growled, ducking as a volley of bullets shattered the crystal chandelier above them. “They tracked Hannah Mercer. She’s Bernardo Rossi’s lost niece.”
Sophia’s eyes widened in shock. “What?! The accountant’s daughter?!”
“Bernardo must have placed a tracking tap on her phone the moment her name popped up in the Bellafonte restaurant registry yesterday!” Dominic shouted back, leaning out from the pillar to lay down suppressive fire, taking down two mercenaries in the grand foyer. “They want to reclaim the Rossi bloodline!”
Upstairs in the suite, the sound of gunfire was muffled but deafening.
The triplets had woken up and were sobbing hysterically in their cribs. Hannah ran into the nursery room, gathering all three girls into her arms, pulling them into the walk-in closet behind a stack of heavy coats.
“Shh, sweeties, it’s okay,” Hannah whispered desperately, tears streaming down her face as she rocked them in the dark. “I’ve got you. Mama’s got you.”
Suddenly, a loud EXPLOSION rocked the outer hallway of the suite.
The heavy oak doors of her sitting room were blown inward with explosive force. Heavy, tactical footsteps marched into the suite.
Hannah held her breath, pressing her hand over Grace’s mouth to keep her quiet.
“Hannah Mercer!” a deep voice with a thick Chicago accent called out from the sitting room. “Come out, little niece! Your uncle Bernardo has been searching for you for twenty-four years! We’re taking you home!”
The footsteps drew closer to the walk-in closet.
Hannah looked around frantically in the dim light. Her eyes landed on a heavy brass floor lamp leaning against the wall.
She gently set the crying girls behind a rack of clothes, picked up the heavy brass lamp, and stood right beside the closet door, her knuckles white.
The closet door handle jiggled.
The door swung open. A masked mercenary stepped inside, his rifle raised.
Hannah screamed with all the rage and fear in her soul, swinging the heavy brass lamp with full force square into the man’s helmeted face!
CLANG!
The mercenary stumbled backward out of the closet, groaning as his rifle fell to the floor.
Hannah didn't hesitate. She grabbed the fallen rifle, holding it awkwardly against her shoulder, pointing it straight at the doorway just as a second mercenary stepped up.
“Don't touch them!” Hannah roared, her eyes blazing with fierce, maternal fury.
Before the mercenary could raise his weapon, a dark figure appeared behind him.
Dominic grabbed the mercenary by his tactical vest, slamming him violently against the doorframe, before delivering a brutal knockout strike to his jaw. The man crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Dominic stood in the doorway, blood dripping from a small cut on his cheekbone, his shirt torn, holding his handgun.
He looked at Hannah standing over the fallen mercenary, holding a military-grade assault rifle, her body shielding his three daughters.
For a long, silent second, Dominic stared at her in utter awe.
“You’re insane, Hannah Mercer,” Dominic breathed, a rare, breathtaking smile breaking across his bruised face.
Hannah dropped the heavy rifle, her knees giving out as she collapsed onto the floor, trembling uncontrollably. “Are... are they gone?”
May you like
Dominic stepped into the closet, dropping to his knees, pulling Hannah and his three sobbing daughters into a tight, protective embrace.
“They’re gone,” Dominic whispered against her hair, his heart hammering wildly against her chest. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
