Chapter 7 - The Unmasking
Within fifteen minutes, the firefight at Whitfield Manor was over.
Sterling’s elite mercenary team was entirely captured or neutralized by Michael’s private security force. Federal agents, alerted by Frank’s emergency channels, swept onto the property, their blue lights flashing against the wet driveway.
In the nursery, the steel door of the panic room slid open.
Emily stepped out holding Noah, who was sound asleep despite the chaos. She looked around at the smoke-filled room, her eyes widening as she saw Michael standing near the ruined doorway.
His white shirt was torn at the shoulder, covered in dust and soot, but he was completely unharmed.
"It's over," Michael said gently, walking over to her.
Emily let out a long breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Sterling?"
"His men are in handcuffs. But Victor Sterling himself wasn't on the property," Michael explained, his jaw tight. "He was controlling the operation from his yacht three miles off the coast."
"Then he’s going to escape into international waters!" Emily cried out. "He has private jets waiting in the Bahamas!"
"He won't escape," Michael said. He turned toward the doorway. "Because he left a trail right inside this house."
Emily blinked. "What do you mean?"
Michael looked at Frank Miller, who was standing near the wall with his hand tucked inside his jacket.
"Frank," Michael said softly. "Pull your hand out of your jacket."
Frank froze. The room went dead silent.
"Boss?" Frank said, forcing a weak smile. "What are you talking about?"
"Victor Sterling knew about Noah’s formula," Michael said, taking a slow step toward his oldest lieutenant. "He knew the exact time Margaret took her break. He knew the master security codes to breach the outer gate tonight. Margaret didn't have those codes, Frank. Only one person did."
Frank’s smile vanished completely. His eyes darted toward the hallway.
"I gave you fifteen years of my life, Frank," Michael said, his voice dropping into a dark, painful register. "I made you a wealthy man. I trusted you with my family."
"He offered me twenty million dollars, Michael!" Frank screamed, suddenly pulling a hidden pistol from his waistband. "Twenty million! You built an empire, and what did I get? Crumbs!"
Before Frank could raise his gun, Emily reacted.
With incredible clinical instincts, she snatched a heavy glass pitcher of water from the side table and hurled it with maximum force directly at Frank’s face.
CRASH!
The heavy glass shattered against Frank’s nose, spraying water and blood everywhere. Frank stumbled backward, shrieking in pain, dropping his gun.
Michael closed the distance in a fraction of a second. He grabbed Frank by his shirt collar, lifted the two-hundred-pound man off his feet, and threw him over the ruined balcony railing.
Frank crashed onto the thick velvet sofa on the floor below, groaning in agony as security guards immediately swarmed him, pinning him down.
Michael turned back to Emily, his chest heaving.
Emily stood there, holding Noah, her hair disheveled, breath coming in fast gasps.
Michael walked over to her, wrapped his arms around both her and Noah, and pulled them tight against his chest.
"You really are incredible, Dr. Parker," Michael murmured into her hair.
May you like
Emily rested her forehead against his chest, closing her eyes as the warmth of his heartbeat filled her senses. "We still have to stop Sterling, Michael."
"We will," Michael promised, his eyes shining with absolute resolve. "Tonight, we end his empire forever."
