Chapter 10
Adrian stepped out of the Master suite, the heavy reinforced door locking securely behind him. He stood in the dim, red-lit corridor, his piercing blue eyes completely devoid of warmth. The grieving brother was gone. The uncle was gone. The only thing left standing in the hallway was the most lethal, ruthless mafia boss in the state.
He raised his radio to his mouth. "Marcus. Status."
"Boss," Marcus’s voice crackled through the earpiece, accompanied by the sound of heavy rain pouring outside. "We have visual on multiple vehicles approaching the main gate. Black SUVs, headlights cut. It’s Donatelli. They brought an army."
"Hold your fire until they breach the outer gates," Adrian commanded, chambering a round into his rifle with a sharp, metallic clack. "I want them entirely inside the kill zone."
"Copy that. Boss... we found the rat."
Adrian paused at the top of the grand staircase, looking down into the massive, barricaded foyer where this entire nightmare had begun less than an hour ago. "Who?"
"It was Holloway," Marcus reported grimly. "The senior housekeeper. She made the call from the kitchen landline."
Adrian’s jaw tightened. Mrs. Holloway. Thirty years of service, bought out by rival money the moment she saw James’s pocket watch. It was a brutal reminder that in this world, absolute loyalty was a myth.
"Secure her in the basement," Adrian ordered coldly. "I will deal with her personally when the sun comes up."
Suddenly, a deafening explosion rocked the estate.
The floorboards violently shuddered beneath Adrian’s polished black leather shoes. The sound of tearing metal and shattering stone echoed from the front of the property. The Donatelli family had just blown the main iron gates off their hinges.
Gunfire erupted in the distance, the sharp, rapid cracks of automatic weapons echoing through the driving rain outside.
Adrian gripped his rifle tightly. He looked back toward the heavy doors of the East Wing, knowing that Claire and his three-year-old niece were hiding in the dark, relying entirely on him to survive the night. He rolled his shoulders, the tattoos on his neck shifting in the red light.
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"Welcome to my house, Victor," Adrian whispered into the empty foyer, a terrifying, bloodthirsty smile creeping onto his movie-star handsome face.
He raised his weapon and began his descent down the grand staircase, stepping directly into the impending slaughter.
