Chapter 10
Silas pulled away from Laurel slowly, the warmth of the moment instantly evaporating as the encrypted phone continued its relentless vibration. He looked down at the screen. The caller ID was heavily encrypted, routing through a dozen international servers, but Silas recognized the digital signature immediately.
Laurel watched his angular face harden, the cold, observant predator returning to his eyes in a fraction of a second. She tightened her grip on the sleeping Phoebe, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.
"Is everything alright, Silas?" Laurel asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Silas did not answer her immediately. He stood up from the cot, his broad shoulders squaring as he prepared to face whatever nightmare was waiting on the other end of the line. He pressed the phone to his ear.
"Are you calling to declare a formal war, Victor?" Silas asked, anticipating the furious voice of the Sterling patriarch on the other end.
But it wasn't Victor Sterling’s voice that answered.
The voice that echoed through the small speaker was entirely calm, chillingly smooth, and possessed a distinct, aristocratic European accent.
"Did you really believe the Sterlings were acting alone, Mr. Beaumont?" the voice inquired, a dark amusement lacing the words. "Did you think an alliance of that magnitude was orchestrated by a fool like Victor?"
Silas’s jaw clenched. The refined tattoos on his hand stretched as he gripped the phone tighter.
"Who am I speaking to?" Silas asked, his deep voice dropping to its most lethal, quiet register.
"You are speaking to the man who holds the mortgage on the Sterling syndicate," the voice replied smoothly. "And you just destroyed my most lucrative merger. Victor is dead. I had him executed five minutes ago for failing to secure the estate."
Laurel stood up, carefully laying Phoebe down on the cot. She walked over to Silas, her expressive brows knitted in pure terror. She could hear the tinny, menacing voice bleeding from the earpiece.
"Do you expect me to apologize for cleaning my own house?" Silas asked, his eyes locking onto Laurel, silently promising her that he would handle this.
"I expect you to pay your debts, Mr. Beaumont," the voice chuckled darkly. "You have a very beautiful new weakness living in your home now. It would be a shame if she met the same fate as your late wife."
The line went dead with a sharp, mechanical click.
Silas lowered the phone slowly. The silence in the safe room was deafening. The skirmish with the Sterlings was over, but a much larger, far deadlier war had just begun. A shadow syndicate, far more powerful than Victor Sterling, was now moving against him.
"Silas?" Laurel whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. "Who was that?"
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Silas looked at the beautiful woman and his sleeping child. He reached behind his back, ensuring his sidearm was fully loaded, preparing to walk back up into the bloodstained mansion to face an unknown enemy.
"Are you ready to run, Laurel?" Silas asked.
