Chapter 9 - The Siege of Lake Forest
The echoes of Vincent’s gunshots faded into the heavy, smoke-filled air of the grand foyer. Both mercenaries crumpled to the polished marble floor, their weapons clattering loudly against the stone.
"Get inside the panic room!" Vincent ordered, shoving the heavy oak panel open. A keypad and biometric scanner glowed softly in the hidden alcove. "Press your thumb against the scanner when the light turns green. It’s programmed to recognize you and Ellie as priority clearance."
Hannah stared at him, her eyes wide with shock and terror. "What about you?"
"I have a house to clean," Vincent said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
He pushed them inside, hit the manual override button, and the heavy steel-reinforced wooden panel slid shut with a solid, definitive thud, locking them safely away from the chaos outside.
Vincent turned around, adjusting his grip on his pistol.
The estate was under siege, but this wasn't a random hit. It was a targeted assassination squad sent by a desperate man who realized his empire was crumbling. And Arthur Vance had made the fatal mistake of bringing a war directly to Vincent Caruso’s front door while Hannah and Ellie were inside.
Tap, tap, tap.
Footsteps echoed down the grand hallway from the west wing. Three more tactical-gear operatives rounded the corner, rifles raised.
Vincent didn't wait for them to aim. He rolled smoothly behind a massive marble pillar as a volley of high-caliber rounds chewed into the stone, sending white dust and marble chips exploding into the air.
"Clear the foyer!" one of the mercenaries barked.
Vincent leaned out from behind the pillar, firing twice in rapid succession. The lead gunman dropped instantly, his rifle skidding across the floor. The remaining two mercenaries scrambled for cover behind the antique couches.
"You're dead, Caruso!" one of them shouted over the gunfire. "Arthur Vance sends his regards!"
"Tell Arthur he miscalculated," Vincent muttered coldly.
He didn't rush. He moved through his own home like a ghost, utilizing every shadow, every blind spot, and every architectural advantage he had spent twenty years designing into the mansion's security layout. Within three minutes, the gunfire in the main hall had ceased entirely.
Five men neutralized. One remaining outside in the van.
Vincent walked calmly toward the front entrance, stepping over shattered glass and splintered wood. He pulled the heavy front doors open, stepping out into the blinding snowstorm.
The lead mercenary—the team leader—was sprinting frantically back toward the delivery van parked by the fountain.
Vincent raised his pistol, took a steady breath in the freezing wind, and fired a single shot that struck the van’s rear tire, sending the vehicle spinning out into a snowbank.
Before the driver could reach for his weapon, Vincent was already there. He yanked the driver’s side door open, grabbed the masked man by the collar of his tactical vest, and hauled him bodily out of the vehicle, slamming him hood-first against the frozen metal.
"Who sent you?" Vincent demanded, pressing the barrel of his gun against the back of the man's neck.
"Arthur... Arthur Vance!" the mercenary choked out, coughing against the snow. "He wanted you ruined! He wanted everyone in the house eliminated!"
Vincent’s dark eyes narrowed into slits. He didn't pull the trigger. Instead, he struck the man across the temple with the heavy butt of his pistol, sending him crashing unconscious into the snowdrift.
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Then, Vincent pulled out his encrypted phone and dialed a direct number.
"Marcus," Vincent said, his voice flat and lethal. "Track down Arthur Vance. Bring him to me. Alive. I want him to see what happens when you bring a war to my front door."
