Chapter 10
The implications of Maya's words hung heavily in the quiet air of the luxurious study. If the Volkovs were utilizing corrupt local law enforcement to execute a false SWAT raid, Marcus's men couldn't simply open fire without starting a war with the entire city's police force. It was a brilliant, devastating tactical move by their enemies.
"A police raid," Marcus repeated slowly, his mind instantly running through a dozen different defense scenarios. He stepped away from the desk, pacing the length of the Persian rug. "They will use the sirens to force us into a lockdown, breach the gates with an armored vehicle, and execute everyone inside under the guise of resisting arrest."
"We can't fight the police, Marcus," Maya said, pushing herself up in the leather chair, the IV line trailing behind her. "Even if we win the firefight, the feds will tear this family apart by morning."
"We won't fight the police," Marcus said, stopping his pacing. A dark, terrifyingly cold smile touched the corners of his lips. His sharp, intimidating eyes locked onto the security monitors mounted on the wall, which showed the fortified perimeter of the estate.
"What are you thinking?" Maya asked, knowing that look intimately. It was the look of a man who was about to turn his enemies' trap entirely against them.
"Genevieve," Marcus said simply. "She is still downstairs in the bunker. And Julian is in the holding cell."
Maya frowned, not following his logic. "What does that have to do with the SWAT raid?"
"If the Volkovs are sending a corrupt SWAT team to assassinate a Mafia Boss, they expect to find heavily armed resistance," Marcus explained, his voice low and dangerous. "They expect a shootout. But what if they don't find a Mafia Boss?"
Marcus walked to his desk and pressed the intercom button.
"Dante," Marcus commanded. "Pull every single one of our men off the perimeter. Disarm them, and have them wait in the underground garage."
"Boss?" Dante's voice echoed back, clearly confused. "Drop the perimeter? They'll walk right through the front door."
"That is exactly what I want them to do," Marcus replied, his tone leaving absolutely no room for debate. "Once the men are in the garage, I want you to bring Genevieve and Julian up to the main foyer. Tie them to the grand staircase. Leave a suppressed weapon in Julian's hand."
Maya’s eyes widened as she understood the brilliant, ruthless cruelty of the plan. "You are going to frame them for the shootout."
"Julian and Genevieve invited the Volkovs into our home," Marcus said, adjusting the cuffs of his silk shirt, the gold signet ring catching the dim light of the study. "It is only fitting that they are the ones who greet them at the door."
Marcus walked back to Maya, gently helping her to her feet. "We are taking Chloe and leaving through the smuggling tunnels beneath the wine cellar. By the time the corrupt SWAT team breaches the front door, they will find a terrified, armed Julian. They won't ask questions. They will just shoot."
"And the Volkovs?" Maya asked, leaning heavily against his side. "They will know we escaped."
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"Let them know," Marcus whispered, guiding his wife toward the hidden door behind the bookshelf. He looked back at the empty, luxurious study, his expression cold and measured. "Tonight, we let them take the empty house. Tomorrow, we take their entire empire."
He pushed the bookshelf open, leading his family into the dark tunnels, leaving the sunlit betrayal far behind, and stepping into the shadows of a much larger war.
