Chapter 6 - The Breach of the West Gate
Aleandro’s demeanor shifted in a fraction of a second. The warmth in his eyes vanished entirely, replaced by the razor-sharp focus of an apex predator locked on a threat.
"Who?" Aleandro demanded, striding past Marcus toward the armory cabinet hidden behind a faux-wood panel in the study wall.
"One of the night-shift gardeners and his wife," Marcus reported rapidly, following him. "The Salvatores bypassed the security grid by cutting through the adjacent municipal park. They’ve got them tied up near the old greenhouse, and Vincent himself is broadcasting on a secured frequency demanding you walk out alone."
Marisol gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Emma... where is Emma?"
"She’s in the west wing playroom with the nanny," Aleandro said firmly, pulling a heavy Beretta 9mm from the wall mount and checking the slide with a crisp clack. He tucked it neatly into a shoulder holster beneath his vest. "Marcus, lock down the interior security shutters. Nobody gets in or out of the residential wings."
"Boss, you can't walk out there alone," Marcus protested. "It’s a firing squad waiting in the dark."
"It’s a trap," Aleandro agreed coldly. "Which means I’ll spring it on my terms, not his."
He turned to Marisol, who was trembling, her eyes wide with terror. He stepped close to her, placing both hands firmly on her shoulders.
"Stay in the west wing," he commanded, his voice absolute. "Do not open this door for anyone except me or Marcus. Do you understand?"
"Aleandro—" she started, the use of his first name slipping out unconsciously in her panic.
"Do you understand?" he repeated, his eyes burning into hers with fierce intensity.
May you like
She nodded mutely, tears welling in her eyes.
Aleandro gave a sharp nod, spun on his heel, and strode out of the study, motioning for Marcus to fall in behind him.
