Chapter 10
The estate was a fortress of organized, lethal activity. The bright, natural lighting of the ballroom was replaced by the cold, tactical illumination of the armory in the subterranean levels of the mansion. Dozens of white American bodyguards and enforcers loaded suppressed automatic weapons, packed tactical gear, and secured communication devices. The air was thick with the smell of gun oil and the metallic anticipation of impending violence.
Galen stood near a massive steel table, checking the magazine of his customized, matte-black handgun. He racked the slide with a sharp, metallic clack, slipping the weapon smoothly into the concealed shoulder holster beneath his tailored three-piece suit. He was the Boss, but he never sent his men into a major conflict without leading from the front.
"The armored transport vehicles are fueled and loaded, Boss," Vincenzo reported, jogging down the concrete stairs. "The northern lieutenants report that the Russian factions are scrambling. They know something is coming, but they don't know where we will hit first."
"Good. Keep them blind," Galen instructed, turning toward his underboss. "Is Eira secure?"
"She is fast asleep in the penthouse," Vincenzo confirmed. "She is surrounded by twenty of our best men. The steel blast doors are sealed. A tactical strike couldn't breach that room."
Galen nodded, a brief wave of relief washing over his tense, angular features. His fair, rosy skin was pale with adrenaline, but his mind was crystal clear.
He walked up the stairs, emerging into the cool night air of the sprawling courtyard. A fleet of black, heavily armored SUVs sat idling on the gravel, their engines purring like caged beasts ready to be unleashed. Galen approached the lead vehicle, the heavy door opened by a waiting guard.
Before Galen could step inside, the piercing, shrill sound of the estate's perimeter alarm shattered the silence of the night.
The blaring sirens echoed across the manicured lawns, bathing the courtyard in flashing red security lights. The capos instantly raised their weapons, scanning the high stone walls surrounding the property.
"Boss! We have a breach at the main gate!" Elias yelled into his radio, sprinting toward the front of the convoy. "Two unmarked tactical vans just crashed through the outer barriers! They are heavily armed!"
Galen stopped, his hand resting on the open door of the SUV. His cold, intimidating eyes narrowed into lethal slits. The Vale family hadn't waited for morning. They hadn't waited to coordinate with the Russians. They had sent a hit squad directly to his front door, believing they could catch him off guard in the aftermath of the engagement dinner.
They were catastrophically wrong.
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"Hold your positions!" Galen roared, his deeply masculine voice cutting through the wailing sirens. He drew his weapon, a terrifying, dark smile spreading across his handsome face. "They wanted to bring the war to my house. Let us show them how we welcome guests."
Galen stepped away from the vehicle, racking his weapon, and walked straight toward the sound of incoming gunfire. The screen faded to black, the violent roar of the impending bloodbath echoing into the night.
