Chapter 6 - Ambush at the Estate
The fall of Marcus Harrison sent shockwaves through Chicago, but the desperate cornered beast is always the most dangerous.
Two nights after the gala, a heavy fog rolled in from Lake Michigan, shrouding the forty-acre grounds of Kane Manor in a thick white blanket.
Inside the nursery, I was sitting in a plush rocking chair, singing a soft lullaby as Eli fell asleep in my arms. The estate was quiet, save for the rhythmic patter of mist against the windowpanes.
Suddenly, the lights went out.
The entire manor was plunged into pitch-black darkness.
Instantly, the emergency backup generators failed to kick in—meaning someone had physically cut the main power lines at the perimeter substation.
My heart slammed against my ribs. "Gabriel!" I whispered into the dark.
Before I could stand up, the nursery door flew open. A dark silhouette filled the frame, illuminated only by the crimson light of a tactical flashlight attached to an automatic rifle.
"Don't make a sound, lady," a harsh, heavily accented voice rasped.
It wasn't Harrison—it was the remnants of Moretti’s elite hit squad, seeking bloody vengeance for their destroyed empire! They knew Harrison’s arrest meant their own downfall, and they had launched a suicide breach on the manor to eliminate Gabriel and everyone he loved!
I squeezed Eli against my chest, backing up against the crib. "Get away from him!"
The gunman raised his weapon. "The boss said nobody leaves this house alive—"
BANG!
A flash of muzzle fire erupted from the dark hallway behind the gunman!
The hitman collapsed instantly, falling heavy onto the hardwood floor.
Gabriel stepped over the body, holding a silenced matte-black pistol in his hand. He wore no jacket—just his black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his eyes glowing like cold steel in the dark.
"Claire! Are you hit?!" Gabriel demanded, rushing into the room and pulling me into his arms.
"No! We're okay!" I gasped, clinging to his shirt. "Eli is unhurt!"
"Mason!" Gabriel shouted into a comms earpiece at his collar. "Report!"
"Hostiles breached the east gate, boss!" Mason’s voice crackled through radio static over the sound of distant gunfire echoing outside. "Eight men! We’ve neutralized four, but two are inside the lower level!"
"Lock down the safe room," Gabriel ordered. "I’m bringing Claire and Eli down now."
Gabriel grabbed my arm, guiding me quickly out of the nursery into the dark hallway. The house was filled with the sound of breaking glass, shouting men, and suppressed gunshots from the floor below.
As we reached the grand staircase landing, a second gunman burst from the master bedroom doorway, raising a shotgun directly toward us!
"DOWN!" Gabriel roared!
He threw his body over mine and Eli’s, shielding us completely with his own torso as the shotgun blasted through the air!
Wood splinters exploded from the wall behind us. Gabriel grunted—a harsh, agonized sound—as several shotgun pellets grazed his shoulder and back!
Despite his injuries, Gabriel spun on his heel, firing three rapid shots into the gunman’s chest without a second’s hesitation. The attacker crashed backward down the stairs, motionless.
"Gabriel!" I cried out, reaching for his shoulder. My hand came away covered in slick, warm blood. "You're hit!"
"It's nothing," Gabriel hissed through gritted teeth, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward the hidden door behind the bookshelf in his study. "Move, Claire!"
He shoved open the concealed steel door, pushing me and Eli inside a small, reinforced panic room equipped with satellite phones, medical kits, and security monitors showing the entire estate.
"Get inside," Gabriel commanded, stepping back onto the threshold.
"No! Come in with us!" I begged, holding the heavy steel door open. "Gabriel, you're bleeding!"
Gabriel looked down at me, his bruised face lit by the green emergency lights of the safe room monitors. He reached out, his bloody hand gently framing my jaw, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped my eye.
"They brought a war to my home, Claire," Gabriel whispered, his voice vibrating with a terrifying, ancient rage. "If I lock myself in this box with you, they will keep coming. I have to finish this tonight."
"Gabriel, please—"
"I love you, Claire Bennett," Gabriel confessed—the words ripping from his throat like a sacred vow made in the middle of a battleground. "I have loved you since the day you walked into my office two years ago. Stay here. Protect our son. I will come back for you."
Before I could answer, before my brain could process the three words that made my soul burst open, Gabriel pulled the heavy steel door shut.
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The electronic lock engaged with a heavy, final CLICK.
I stood in the green-lit gloom of the panic room, holding a sleeping baby against my beating heart, listening to the echoes of gunfire outside, praying to every god in existence to bring Chicago’s most dangerous man back to me alive.
