Chapter 6 - Shadows at the Gate
Susan’s confession didn't stay confined to the study.
Within seconds of her shouting her hatred, Vince tapped a small remote control in his palm. A hidden audio recorder tucked inside Rory’s desk drawer—a device Rory used for high-stakes syndicate arbitration, which captured every decibel of Susan’s unhinged tirade—chirped softly, confirming the digital file was saved and encrypted.
But Susan wasn't acting alone, and she hadn't come unprepared.
As Vince downloaded the confession to a secure server, his tactical comms unit buzzed violently with an incoming alert from the perimeter sensor grid.
“Boss,” Vince said sharply, his hand dropping naturally to the grip of his concealed firearm. “We’ve got movement at the front gates. Three unmarked black sedans. They just bypassed the primary sensor grid using a relay scrambler.”
Susan let out a sharp, hysterical laugh, regaining a fraction of her arrogant composure.
“You think I came here alone, Rory?” she spat, her eyes gleaming with malice. “You think I didn't have backup waiting down the lane? If you touch me, or try to keep me here, my associates will breach this estate, burn it to the ground, and take your daughters before you can even draw your weapon!”
Rory didn't flinch. He didn't even look at Susan.
He turned his cold, calculating gaze to Vince. “Lock down the house. Activate the inner perimeter defense grid. And get Veronica and the girls into the reinforced panic room behind the library immediately.”
“Mr. Starks, I’m not running,” Veronica stepped forward out of the shadows by the bookshelf, her voice steady and resolute. “The girls know me. If they wake up in a concrete bunker surrounded by heavy steel doors and armed guards, they’ll panic. They’ll think the monsters have won. I’m staying with them in the nursery.”
Rory looked into her resolute hazel eyes, seeing a strength that matched his own—a quiet, unyielding courage that money couldn't buy and threats couldn't break.
“Fine,” Rory nodded curtly. “Vince, post our two best men outside the nursery door. Anyone who tries to get past you gets put in the ground. No warnings.”
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Outside, across the manicured lawns, the heavy thud of tactical boots echoed across the stone courtyard as Susan’s hired mercenaries breached the outer foyer windows. Glass shattered near the front entrance. The muffled pop of a silenced pistol echoed through the high ceilings.
The war had come to the Hamptons. And Rory Starks was ready to end it.
