Chapter 6 - The Ultimatum
The panic room behind the master suite library was a fortress within a fortress—reinforced steel walls, independent air filtration, and monitors displaying every feed of the estate’s internal security network.
Sophia sat on the floor with Emma cradled tightly in her lap. The little girl had woken up during the transfer, crying in confusion, but Sophia had managed to soothe her with whispered lullabies while the low hum of the emergency generator vibrated through the floorboards.
On the wall-mounted monitor, Sophia could see grainy infrared footage of the grounds.
Figures were moving through the rose gardens—silent, disciplined, armed.
It’s him, Sophia thought, a cold terror gripping her spine. Derek found us.
Derek Vance—her violent, unstable ex-boyfriend who had spent years tracking her across state lines after she fled with their daughter. She had thought changing her name with agency help would keep them hidden, but Derek had deep connections in the Chicago underworld. If he had allied with someone powerful enough to breach Dominic’s estate, he wasn't just here to take Emma back.
He was here to destroy everything.
Meanwhile, out in the dimly lit grand hallway of the east wing, Dominic Vale moved like a ghost.
He didn't turn on the overhead lights. He knew every squeak of the floorboards, every shadow cast by the towering marble columns.
Clack. Clack.
Soft footsteps approached from the arched doorway leading from the service stairs. Two men, faces concealed behind black balaclavas, slipped into the hallway. They carried suppressed submachine guns, sweeping their barrels left and right with professional synchronization.
“Clear,” the lead intruder muttered in a low hiss.
“Not quite,” a voice murmured from the darkness near the ceiling fresco.
The lead intruder snapped his weapon upward, but he was too slow.
The butt of Dominic’s pistol crashed down with bone-shattering force against the man’s temple, dropping him instantly to the marble floor like a felled tree.
The second intruder whirled around, firing three rapid shots into the shadows. The bullets chewed into the wooden wainscoting as Dominic rolled smoothly across the carpet, coming up on one knee.
Bang.
A single shot echoed down the hall. The second intruder’s weapon clattered from his hand as a bullet pierced his right shoulder, pinning him against the wall with a sharp cry of pain.
Dominic stepped forward, the barrel of his pistol pressed firmly against the man’s throat.
“Who sent you?” Dominic asked, his voice dead, flat, terrifying.
“F-fuck you—” the man gasped, blood pooling beneath his tactical vest.
“Wrong answer,” Dominic murmured, increasing pressure until the man gagged. “You have five seconds before I let Viktor handle your interrogation. And Viktor lacks my patience.”
“Derek!” the intruder choked out. “Derek Vance! He paid us fifty grand to grab the woman and the kid! Said the boss inside the house wouldn't care about a couple of nobodies!”
Dominic’s eyes darkened into an abyss of pure, unadulterated rage.
Derek Vance.
The man who had terrorized Sophia. The man who had dared bring violence into his home, threatening the woman who had brought light back into his solitary fortress.
“Viktor,” Dominic spoke into his comms.
“Boss?”
“Clear the perimeter. I want the main gates locked down. And bring me the man waiting in the sedan parked by the public road.”
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Dominic stood over the wounded intruder, kicked his weapon across the floor, and walked away without looking back.
The game was over. Someone had dared to touch what belonged to Dominic Vale.
