civica

Chapter 6 - The Broken Covenant

The shatter of reinforced glass echoed through the grand ballroom.

Two men in black tactical gear and night-vision optics breached through the french doors leading to the terrace. They moved with military precision—weapons raised, clearing corners in synchronized sweeps.

They didn't realize that in this house, every corner was a kill zone I had mapped myself.

"Clear left," one whispered into his throat mic.

"Clear—"

I stepped out from behind a marble archway. The Benelli roared, the deafening thunder of the 12-gauge slug ripping through the lead operative’s tactical vest, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into a glass display cabinet.

The second man swung his suppressed rifle toward me, but Parker appeared from the service corridor, firing three double-taps from his sidearm. Two rounds struck the operative’s chest; the third took him through the throat. He collapsed without a sound, his rifle skittering across the marble floor.

Outside on the lawn, the rhythmic thud of suppressed gunfire erupted as my perimeter security team eliminated the remaining two infiltrators.

Within ninety seconds, the estate was silent once more.

The smell of cordite and copper hung heavy in the opulent air. I racked the slide of the shotgun, ejecting the spent red casing, which clattered against the stone floor.

I stepped over the fallen operative and knelt beside the second man Parker had shot. He was still clinging to life, blood bubbling from his mouth, his fingers clawing at the slick floor.

I reached down and ripped the tactical balaclava from his face.

I recognized him instantly.

Marcus Kane. Former Delta Force. For the last four years, he had been the head of private executive protection for Vance Enterprises.

"Marcus," I said softly, resting the hot barrel of the Benelli against his forehead. "Julian must be getting desperate to send his personal dog to do a hit."

Marcus choked, a sickening grin spreading across his bloody lips. "Too... too late, Moretti... Julian’s already... at the tower. Board... board votes at eight... he has the shipping lanes... you lose..."

"Julian sent you to kill two five-year-old girls," I said, my voice dropping so low it felt like grave dirt falling onto a coffin lid. "Tell me, Marcus. What did he promise you? Stock options? A Cayman account?"

Marcus wheezed, his eyes rolling back into his head. "He said... nobody... could prove... they were alive..."

"They aren't just alive," I whispered into his ear. "They’re home. Tell the devil that Clara sends her regards."

Marcus’s chest shuddered, and his body went entirely slack.

Parker stepped forward, wiping carbon residue from his slide. "Clean-up team is inbound, Boss. We have twenty minutes before the local precinct gets an anonymous noise complaint, though we own the dispatch."

"Let the dispatch clear it," I said, standing up. "Leave the bodies for the coroner. I want the LAPD Homicide Captain—the one on our payroll, Detective Briggs—here immediately. We document everything. Ballistics, IDs, company payroll links to Julian Vance."

"And the shareholder meeting?" Parker asked, checking his watch. "It’s 4:30 AM. Meeting starts in three and a half hours."

"We go to Moretti Tower," I replied. "But not to defend my seat."

I turned and walked back up the grand staircase.

I approached the nursery wall and spoke clearly: "Clearance code: Moretti One."

The pneumatic seal hissed, and the heavy ballistic door swung open.

Lily was sitting on the floor, holding a plush brown teddy bear she had found in the corner of the safe room. Rose was standing right in front of her, clutching a heavy brass lamp she had unplugged from the desk, ready to swing at whatever came through that door.

When she saw it was me, the brass lamp slipped from her fingers, thudding onto the carpet.

I dropped to my knees and held out my arms.

Rose didn't hold back this time. She ran across the room, slamming her tiny frame into my chest, burying her face into the collar of my blood-stained shirt. A second later, Lily joined her, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I held them both against me, burying my face in their hair. For the first time in six years, the screaming void in my chest went quiet.

"I told you," I whispered, tears wetting their cheeks. "The wolves work for me."

"Are the bad men gone?" Lily whimpered.

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"They're gone, baby," I murmured, kissing the crescent birthmark beneath her collarbone, then kissing Rose’s forehead. "And the man with the silver watch is about to pay for every single tear you ever cried."

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