Chapter 6 - The Midnight Confrontation
That night, the storm outside raged with renewed ferocity, shaking the massive oak trees surrounding the estate and cutting off the main power grid for twenty minutes before the auxiliary diesel generators kicked in with a heavy, subterranean thrum.
Ethan sat at his desk in the study, reviewing encrypted shipping manifests, when the intercom buzzed sharply.
“Boss,” Marcus’s voice crackled through the secure speaker. “We’ve got movement on the perimeter sensors near the east gate. A black SUV just dropped off an uninvited guest who bypassed the outer retinal scanners using a high-level override code.”
Ethan’s hand froze over his keyboard. “An override code? Only three people have that code: me, Marco, and...” He stopped, his blood running cold. “My mother.”
Without a second thought, Ethan drew his Sig Sauer P226 from its holster under his desk, checked the magazine, and sprinted out of the study toward the private family quarters on the second floor.
When he burst through the door of the master suite, the room was empty.
“Grace!” Ethan shouted, his heart hammering against his ribs in a blind panic.
He rushed into the newly renovated nursery. The window leading to the second-story balcony was cracked open, letting in a gust of freezing rain. Sitting on the mahogany side table was a thick manila envelope, its flap torn open, revealing a stack of foreign passports and bearer bonds.
Ethan’s breathing hitched. She’s gone.
Before he could turn toward the intercom to lock down the entire estate, the door behind him clicked open.
Vivian stood in the doorway, wearing her emerald silk robe, her face pale as marble.
“She’s gone, isn't she?” Ethan growled, turning on his mother with a fury so intense it seemed to distort the air around him. He raised his pistol, the barrel pointing inches from the floor, his eyes blazing with murderous intent. “You drove her out again. You gave her the papers!”
“I saved her life, Ethan!” Vivian shouted back, her voice breaking as tears finally welled in her eyes. “And I saved yours! Salvatore Rossi and Marco are moving against us tonight! They intercepted the courier carrying the syndicate ledgers! If Grace had been in this house when they breached the gates—”
CRASH!
The heavy iron doors of the estate’s ground-floor foyer blew inward with the deafening sound of a breaching charge.
Shouts, the sharp crack of suppressed automatic gunfire, and the wail of internal security alarms echoed up through the vaulted stairwell.
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Ethan didn't hesitate. He lowered his weapon, grabbed a secondary tactical rifle from the wall-mounted concealed rack in the hallway, and shoved a spare magazine into his pocket.
“If anything happens to her,” Ethan whispered to his mother, his voice a lethal promise, “you won't have to worry about the syndicate taking us down. I’ll burn this entire dynasty to ash myself.”
