Chapter 9 - THE ENEMY AT THE GATES
The room fell into a quiet so absolute that the crackle of the oak logs in the fireplace sounded like gunshots.
I covered my mouth with both hands, my knees buckling. Julian immediately caught me, wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me against his chest to keep me from hitting the floor.
Oliver hadn't just been a lost boy. He had been a running target for his life in the dark. And if I hadn't answered those three small taps at 10:06 PM...
“Oh God,” I sobbed against Julian's suit jacket, the sheer horror of the situation finally shattering my composure. “Oh God, Julian…”
Julian held me tight, his hand resting on the back of my head, holding me close just as he used to six years ago when the stress of my hospital shifts overwhelmed me.
“He's safe now, Sophia,” Julian murmured into my hair, his voice fierce and protective. “You saved him. You saved my son.”
“They know where my house is,” I whispered, panic rising again as I looked up at him. “Marcone's scouts were watching my street!”
“They know my car was there,” Julian corrected me, his eyes turning back into cold, calculating steel. “They don't know who lives inside. But tomorrow morning, Marcone's men will search the public records for 106th Street. They will find your name. They will find your employment records at Elmhurst. They will find Emma's school registration.”
He cupped my face in his large, warm hands, forcing me to look into his silver eyes.
“Which is why you and Emma are never going back to that house,” Julian stated plainly. “Your old life is over, Sophia. You cannot protect her with a nurse's salary and a deadbolt anymore. The only thing that protects her now is the entire weight of the Vance family.”
Before I could answer, the double doors of the library burst open.
Leo stood in the doorway, his face pale, his hand gripping the grip of a semi-automatic pistol holstered beneath his jacket.
“Boss,” Leo said, his voice clipped and urgent. “We have a breach on the outer perimeter.”
Julian didn't flinch. He slowly released my face, turning toward his head of security. “Who?”
“Three suburban SUVs just rammed through the south security gate,” Leo reported grimly. “Thermal sensors show at least twelve armed operators moving through the lower pine woods toward the main house. It's Marcone's primary assault team. They tracked the van's satellite transponder.”
My heart stopped. “The transponder? How?”
Julian's eyes narrowed into slits of pure, lethal anger. “Because someone inside my organization gave them the frequency.”
He turned to me instantly. “Get the children. Take them to the panic room behind the wine cellar. Mrs. Gable knows the code.”
“Julian, what about you?!” I cried, reaching for his arm.
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Julian reached into his jacket, pulled out a sleek silver handgun, checking the chamber with a crisp, practiced metallic clack .
“I'm going to end the war that kept me away from my daughter for six years,” Julian said, his voice flat, emotionless, and absolutely terrifying.
