Chapter 10
The armed guards moved with ruthless efficiency. Two of the massive men hauled Giselle Voss roughly to her feet by her unbroken arm, ignoring her hysterical, wailing pleas for mercy. They dragged her backward across the Persian rug, her expensive sculpted satin gown tearing against the doorframe, her diamond earrings lost in the scuffle. The heavy oak doors slammed shut behind them, sealing the study once more and cutting off Giselle’s screams as she was taken down into the dark, soundproof basement of the mansion. She would never see the light of day again.
Inside the study, a heavy, exhausted silence settled over the room. Agnes Bell remained in the leather armchair, her frail body trembling from the violent adrenaline crash. Elise Warren stood beside her, gently stroking the elderly woman’s back. The beautiful housemaid’s black uniform was slightly rumpled from her dive, but her posture remained fiercely dignified, her expressive brows settled into a look of solemn relief.
Nathaniel Cross did not immediately acknowledge them. He walked slowly over to the grand, floor-to-ceiling window behind his desk, pulling back the heavy velvet curtains. He stared out into the sprawling, glittering expanse of the city below. Somewhere out there, in the dark, brutal concrete maze of the metropolis, his son and daughter were breathing. They were four years old. They were alive, and they were in the hands of his greatest enemies.
The grief he had carried for four years evaporated, instantly replaced by a cold, calculating, and apocalyptic rage. The Volkov syndicate had stolen his bloodline. The retaliation he was about to unleash would rewrite the history of the criminal underworld. The streets would run red before the weekend was over.
He remained silent for a long time, the ambient glow of the city lights reflecting off his sharp jaw and his high-bridged nose. Finally, he turned back toward the interior of the study. His cold, observant eyes bypassed the shattered glass on his desk and locked directly onto Elise. The housemaid had proven herself to be more intelligent, more capable, and more fiercely loyal than anyone in his inner circle.
He unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling up the sleeves of his tailored shirt to reveal the extensive ink wrapping around his powerful forearms. He was no longer a host at a dinner party; he was a general preparing for a massacre.
He picked up the small black leather ledger from his desk, weighing it thoughtfully in his tattooed hands.
“Are you prepared for the war that starts tonight, Elise?”
Elise held his gaze, her dark eyes reflecting the grim reality of the situation. She knew exactly what finding those children would cost the city. She nodded slowly, her hands folded over her pristine white apron.
May you like
Nathaniel slipped the ledger into his pocket, his deep, quiet voice echoing with absolute, terrifying finality.
“Do you understand exactly what you have just unleashed upon this city?”
