Chapter 5
The command center located in the west wing of the mansion was a stark contrast to the opulent dining hall. Here, the walnut paneling was replaced by reinforced steel walls and banks of glowing surveillance monitors. The air smelled of hot electronics and black coffee.
Silas stood at the head of the tactical table, the sleeves of his charcoal suit rolled up to the elbows, revealing the full extent of the refined, artistic tattoos wrapping around his forearms. He stared at the digital map of the city’s territories, his jaw tightly clenched.
Marcus, having secured Bianca in the cellar, stood across from him, looking grim. "Boss, the Sterling syndicate is mobilizing. We have chatter on the encrypted frequencies. Bianca’s driver panicked when he saw her being dragged away and sent a distress code to her father. They know the engagement is broken."
"Are our perimeters completely locked down, Marcus?" Silas asked, tracing a line along the digital map with a heavily inked finger.
"Yes, sir. All gates are sealed. The guards are heavily armed, and the snipers are in position on the roof," Marcus reported. "But the Sterlings have the numbers advantage. If they push a full assault on the estate, we are going to take heavy casualties."
"Do you believe the Sterlings have the tactical discipline to breach my walls?" Silas inquired, his cold, observant eyes flicking up to his underboss.
"They have heavy ordinance, Silas. They're going to try and overwhelm us with sheer force to get her back," Marcus warned. "We could still avoid a bloodbath. If we negotiate, offer a trade—Bianca for a peaceful withdrawal—we might salvage the peace."
"Would a man who negotiates with child abusers retain the respect of his men?" Silas asked softly, leaning his knuckles against the steel table.
Marcus sighed, knowing there was absolutely no changing the boss's mind once a line had been crossed. "No, sir. He wouldn't. Where do you want the girl and the maid?"
"Are the reinforced doors to the subterranean safe room operational?" Silas asked, straightening up to his full, imposing height.
"Fully operational. Food, water, and independent air supply for three days," Marcus confirmed.
"Will you ready my tactical gear while I escort them down?" Silas asked, already turning toward the heavy command center door.
Meanwhile, in the quiet sanctuary of Phoebe’s bedroom, Laurel was gently brushing the little girl’s hair. Phoebe had changed out of her pale pink party dress into soft pajamas, but she was entirely unable to sleep.
"Is my dad going to have to fight the bad men, Laurel?" Phoebe asked, looking at the maid's reflection in the vanity mirror.
"Your father is a very strong man, Phoebe," Laurel answered softly, her own bruised wrist aching as she moved the brush. "He knows how to keep us safe."
May you like
The bedroom door clicked open, and Silas stepped inside. The soft bedside lamp cast long shadows across his face. He looked at the beautiful maid and his brave daughter, the two people who anchored his dark world.
"Are you both ready to take a walk downstairs?" Silas asked, extending his tattooed hand toward them.
