Chapter 10
Victor Harrington did not waste another second. He turned on his heel and strode out of the suite, barking orders into his secure radio as he moved down the brightly lit corridors. The mansion, previously silent, instantly erupted into highly organized, tactical chaos.
"Mobilize the strike teams," Victor commanded his captains over the radio. "I want four armored SUVs at the front portico in five minutes. Heavy weapons, winter gear. We are breaching the Voss mountain lodge."
"Boss, that's Voss territory," a capo’s voice crackled back, thick with shock. "If we hit that lodge, it’s an automatic declaration of war against the Senator."
"I am the one declaring the war," Victor replied coldly, descending the grand staircase. "Anyone who hesitates to get in those vehicles can leave their guns on my desk and walk out of this syndicate forever."
There was no hesitation. Within minutes, the front courtyard of the opulent mansion was filled with the roaring engines of armored vehicles and heavily armed men dressed in black tactical gear.
Victor stood by the front doors, pulling a heavy, dark winter overcoat over his three-piece suit. He checked the magazine of his sidearm, the artistic tattoos on his hands moving with lethal precision.
Violet hurried down the stairs, carrying a heavy wool coat she had retrieved from the coatroom. She stopped in front of Victor, her breathing erratic.
"I am coming with you," Violet stated, her voice trembling but her posture entirely unyielding.
Victor looked at her, his expression softening slightly amidst the chaos. "Violet, it is going to be a bloodbath. You need to stay here, where it is safe."
"I am the one who found out," Violet argued, stepping closer. "If that little girl is scared in a house full of men with guns, she will need someone gentle to hold her. I am coming."
Victor stared into her expressive, determined eyes. He knew he could not stop her without using force, and he would rather die than lay a hostile hand on her. He nodded slowly, taking the heavy wool coat from her hands and holding it open so she could slip her arms into the sleeves.
"Stay directly behind me at all times," Victor instructed, his deep voice a fierce, protective rumble. "You do not leave my sight for a single second."
"I promise," Violet whispered.
The heavy mahogany doors swung open, letting in a blast of freezing winter air. The bright, cinematic lighting of the mansion spilled out onto the snow-covered driveway, illuminating the small army waiting for their boss’s command.
Victor walked out into the cold, Violet keeping pace right behind his broad shoulders. The men piled into the SUVs, weapons loaded and ready.
Victor opened the heavy armored door of the lead vehicle, ushering Violet inside before climbing in beside her. The doors slammed shut, sealing them in the dark, tense cabin.
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"Drive," Victor commanded the driver.
The convoy of black SUVs tore out of the mansion gates, tires spinning on the fresh snow, hurtling into the freezing night. The Christmas Eve dinner had ended in a bloodless coup, but the dawn would inevitably bring a massacre. As Victor looked out the window into the darkness, his hand subtly finding Violet’s in the space between their seats, he prepared to tear the state apart to retrieve a stolen child.
