Chapter 7 - The Trap Closing
Inside the oak-paneled study, the phone speaker hissed with static before Captain Miller’s tense voice filled the room.
“Adrian? You there?”
“I’m here, Miller. Make it quick,” Adrian said, standing behind his mahogany desk. Hannah stood quietly near the doorway, holding Lucas, who was still fast asleep.
“You’ve got a massive problem,” Miller said urgently. “Salvatore Rossi went rogue about an hour ago. He didn't just walk away from the council meeting; he’s cutting deals with the Russian syndicate out of Brighton Beach. He’s offering them control of your shipping berths in exchange for muscle.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure ice. “What else?”
“They know about the baby, Adrian,” Miller warned. “Salvatore figures if he can leverage the kid—or eliminate the heir—your organization will fracture, and he can take the crown without firing a shot at you directly. Word on the street is they’ve dispatched a hit squad to the Long Island property. They’re moving in tonight under cover of the coastal fog.”
The air in the study turned sub-zero.
“Thank you, Miller,” Adrian said smoothly, though his voice vibrated with lethal fury. He hung up the phone without another word.
He turned around, his gaze locking onto Hannah. The protective panic in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Pack a bag,” Adrian commanded, moving toward the wall safe behind his desk. He punched in the combination and pulled out a heavy black steel case, snapping it open to reveal a pair of suppressed automatic pistols and extra magazines. “Marcus and Leo will drive you and Lucas to a safe house upstate immediately. My personal convoy will meet you at the gate.”
Hannah didn't move. She stood her ground near the doorway, holding the baby tightly against her chest.
“And what about you?” she asked.
“I’m staying,” Adrian said coldly, sliding a pistol into his shoulder holster and checking the magazine of the second. “This is my house. These are my men. If Salvatore wants a war, I’m going to give him a funeral.”
“No,” Hannah said firmly.
Adrian stopped, looking up in disbelief. “Hannah, this isn't a negotiation. The Russians and Salvatore’s men are coming here to kill everyone in this house. I am not letting you and my son become collateral damage.”
“I’m not running away from a fight again,” Hannah said, her hazel eyes blazing with a fierce, unbreakable courage. “I ran from my grief. I ran from my old life. But I am not running from the people who want to hurt this baby. If we leave, they hunt us down on the highway. If we stay, we fight together.”
Adrian stared at her. For the first time in his life, a woman was refusing his direct order—not out of defiance, but out of absolute, unwavering loyalty.
He closed the distance between them in two long strides, grabbing her by the shoulders, his face inches from hers.
“Listen to me,” Adrian whispered fiercely. “If anything happens to you or Lucas, I have nothing left. Do you understand me? Nothing.”
“Then don't let anything happen to us,” Hannah replied softly. “Stay with us.”
Adrian closed his eyes for a single second, warring with his demons. Then he nodded, his jaw set with lethal resolve.
“Marcus!” Adrian roared toward the hallway.
May you like
The door burst open instantly. “Boss?”
“Lock down the estate. Seal the perimeter gates. Turn off all exterior lights. Issue tactical gear to every man on the property. We’re hosting uninvited guests tonight.”
