“A woman behind the pantry wall.”

The immediate aftermath of the explosion was a sensory nightmare of ringing ears, choking smoke, and the sharp scent of pulverized concrete and burning chemicals. Matthias Rook pushed himself up from the floor, his powerful shoulders throwing off the heavy wooden debris that had collapsed onto his back. Blood trickled down his temple, staining his pale, rosy skin, but his cold, observant eyes were instantly scanning the ruined pantry for threats.

“Is everyone alive? Can anyone hear me over this ringing?” Matthias shouted into the darkness, his voice strained but commanding.

The backup generators kicked in seconds later, bathing the kitchen in a harsh, pulsing red emergency light. His enforcers were picking themselves up, dusting off broken glass and drawing their heavy firearms. Clarice Voss was pinned beneath a fallen wine rack, screaming in agony, her sculpted satin gown soaked in spilled red wine that looked terrifyingly like blood under the emergency lights.

Matthias ignored her screams. His mind was entirely focused on the upper floors. Lorna, Jamie, and Helen were up there.

He unholstered the suppressed pistol from his shoulder harness, racking the slide with a sharp, metallic clack. He turned to his lead enforcer.

“Will you secure the perimeter and hold this position, or do I need to kill the intruders myself?”

“We’ve got it, boss! Go to the family!” the enforcer yelled over the blaring security alarms.

Matthias bolted from the kitchen, his polished leather shoes crunching over the glass and debris. As he hit the main service hallway, he encountered the first wave of the assault. Three men in tactical gear, carrying automatic weapons, were breaching the rear doors. They weren't rival gang members; they moved with the precise, coordinated discipline of highly trained mercenaries.

Matthias didn't hesitate. He raised his weapon and fired three rapid, suppressed shots. Two men dropped instantly, their armor compromised by the close-range impact. The third dove behind a marble pillar, returning fire. Bullets chewed through the ivory wall panels, sending plaster exploding into the air around Matthias.

Matthias ducked into an alcove, reloading seamlessly. His sharp jaw was set in a mask of absolute fury. The traitor hadn't just planned to marry him to Clarice; the traitor had planned a full-scale coup tonight, using the birthday dinner as a distraction to get a strike team inside the gates.

“Did you truly believe an explosion and a handful of hired guns could kill me in my own fortress?” Matthias yelled across the hallway, firing blindly to keep the mercenary pinned.

Suddenly, a massive volley of gunfire erupted from the top of the grand staircase. Matthias looked up through the smoke. Lorna Hayes was crouched behind the shattered remnants of a crystal chandelier, clutching a heavy assault rifle she had clearly taken from a fallen guard. The beautiful housemaid in the black dress and white apron was laying down precise, suppressive fire, her expressive brows drawn in fierce concentration as she defended the hallway leading to the family’s safe room.

Matthias broke cover, sprinting up the marble stairs while Lorna covered his advance. He slid into cover beside her, breathing heavily.

“Are my wife and son locked inside the vault, Lorna?”

“Yes, sir! I secured the titanium deadbolts myself!” Lorna shouted over the gunfire, expertly ejecting a spent magazine.

Matthias looked down at the chaotic, smoke-filled foyer as more heavily armed men poured through the shattered front doors. The battle for his empire had just begun. He looked at the housemaid, his grip tightening on his pistol.