Chapter 7
The cellar holding room was damp, freezing, and entirely devoid of the luxury Bianca Sterling was accustomed to. She sat huddled on a crude metal chair, shivering violently, her torn ivory silk gown stained with dirt and soot from the floor.
The heavy steel door groaned open. Silas stepped into the room, silhouetted by the dim hallway light. He was fully outfitted for war now, having shed his charcoal suit jacket for a heavy, matte-black Kevlar vest. A tactical sidearm was strapped to his thigh, and he carried a suppressed rifle with effortless, terrifying ease.
Bianca looked up, her face a mask of ruined makeup and sheer terror. When she saw him armed, a hysterical, desperate laugh escaped her lips.
"They're here, aren't they?" Bianca mocked, her voice shaking violently. "My father’s men are tearing your beautiful mansion apart! I told you, Silas! You can't touch a Sterling and live!"
Silas walked slowly into the center of the room, his polished leather shoes clicking against the concrete. He stopped, staring down at her with eyes colder than the freezing cellar air.
"Do you believe your father’s men frighten me, Bianca?" Silas asked.
"They should!" Bianca screamed, standing up, though she wisely kept her distance from him. "They outnumber your guards two to one! If you don't release me right now and surrender, they will slaughter everyone in this house! Including that stupid maid and your brat!"
Silas’s jaw clenched so tightly the muscle jumped beneath his trimmed stubble. In a flash of movement so fast Bianca didn't even have time to blink, Silas closed the distance and grabbed her roughly by the throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to kill, but the sheer, violent dominance of the grip slammed her back against the concrete wall, knocking the breath entirely out of her lungs.
"Have you forgotten whose house you are standing in?" Silas asked, his face just inches from hers, his voice a low, demonic rumble.
Bianca gasped for air, her hands weakly clawing at his tattooed wrists. Her arrogance instantly evaporated, replaced by the crushing realization that her father's army was outside, and the monster was inside.
"Please," Bianca choked out, tears streaming down her face.
"Did you show my daughter mercy when you terrified her?" Silas inquired, loosening his grip just a fraction so she could breathe. "Did you show Laurel mercy when you crushed her wrist?"
"I'll do whatever you want!" Bianca sobbed, thoroughly broken. "Just let me live!"
"Will you call your father and tell him to call off his dogs, Bianca?" Silas asked smoothly, releasing her throat and stepping back.
Bianca collapsed to her knees on the cold concrete, coughing violently. Silas reached into his tactical vest, pulled out a secure, encrypted mobile phone, and tossed it onto the floor in front of her.
"Will you dial the number now?" Silas asked, raising his suppressed rifle and pointing it directly at the center of her chest.
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Trembling uncontrollably, Bianca picked up the phone. She dialed the numbers with bloody, shaking fingers and pressed the phone to her ear. As the line rang, the muffled sound of a massive explosion shook the foundation of the mansion above them, causing dust to rain down from the ceiling.
"Is he answering?" Silas asked, his finger resting lightly on the trigger.
