Chapter 9
The aftermath of the battle was chaotic, but strictly controlled. Kellan’s enforcers moved swiftly across the sprawling driveway, securing the perimeter and beginning the grim task of cleaning up the ruined Marzano convoy. The flashing lights of the tactical flashlights cut through the dark, illuminating the absolute failure of the rival syndicate's ambush.
Kellan Ashbury stood near the shattered iron gates, his tailored suit dusted with ash and debris, but his masculine presence was completely undiminished. He wiped a smudge of dirt from his sharp jawline, his dark eyes scanning the tree line to ensure the retreat was final.
“Are the casualties on our side confirmed?” Kellan asked his lieutenant, his deep voice echoing in the cool night air.
“Three wounded, Boss. None critical,” the lieutenant reported grimly. “We completely crushed them. Word will spread by morning. No one will test the Ashbury family for a very long time.”
“Will you ensure the wounded are given the best medical care available, and double their hazard pay for the month?” Kellan instructed, turning his broad shoulders back toward the brilliantly lit mansion.
“Yes, Boss. What about Cedric in the holding cells?” the lieutenant asked.
Kellan paused, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the massive, glowing structure of his home. Cedric had betrayed his blood, sold his secrets, and attempted to orchestrate a massacre that would have undoubtedly claimed Briony’s life if they had breached the walls.
“Do you believe a traitor deserves the comfort of a quick resolution, or should he sit in the dark and imagine what I am going to do to him for a few more days?” Kellan asked softly.
“Let him rot in the dark, Boss,” the lieutenant smirked.
“Will you secure the command center while I check on my household?” Kellan asked, holstering his weapon and adjusting his collar.
Kellan walked the long gravel driveway back to the main house. The adrenaline of the firefight was slowly ebbing, replaced by a profound, urgent need to see the woman he had locked away on the third floor. He stepped through the heavy oak doors, the grand foyer completely untouched by the violence outside. The crystal chandeliers continued to cast their warm, golden light over the quiet, pristine space.
He moved quickly, his leather shoes clicking loudly on the marble stairs. He reached the third floor and walked down the long, silent corridor until he reached the heavy, reinforced door of the secure suite.
He stopped, taking a deep breath to steady himself, and knocked three times.
“Briony. Will you open the door for me?” Kellan asked, his deep voice carrying clearly through the thick wood.
The heavy deadbolts clicked instantly. The door swung open, revealing Briony standing in the entryway. Her sophisticated black maid dress was slightly wrinkled, and her expressive eyes were wide and red from crying. But the moment she saw him standing there, unharmed and commanding, a massive wave of relief washed over her delicate features.
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“You came back,” Briony whispered, her voice cracking with raw emotion.
“Did you truly believe I would let a war keep me from the woman who holds my heart?” Kellan asked, stepping into the suite and closing the heavy door firmly behind him.
