Chapter 4 - The Breach
By three in the morning, the twins were sound asleep in the suite’s master bedroom. I had ordered a tray of hot soup, sandwiches, and fresh fruit from the midnight room service kitchen, forcing Anna to eat every bite before she collapsed from exhaustion on the guest bed in the adjoining room.
I sat in the main living area, my laptop open on the mahogany desk, reviewing the financial network of Vance Enterprises.
If Julian Vance wanted a war, he was going to get one. I had my personal lead investigator, Marcus, scouring Vance’s tax filings, real estate holdings, and corporate shell companies. Within two hours, Marcus had already uncovered three offshore accounts linked to illegal construction bribes in Queens.
I was about to save the file when the quiet in the room was shattered by a muffled thud from the service corridor behind the pantry.
I stood up instantly, my muscles coiled.
The Wellington Grand’s penthouse suite had two entrances: the main grand doors accessed by the private elevator, and a discrete service door used by housekeeping staff and room service attendants.
I walked silently toward the pantry, reaching into the top drawer of the sideboard to grip a heavy solid-silver ice mallet.
The brass handle of the service door turned slowly.
Click.
Someone had overridden the electronic key card lock from the outside.
The door swung open, revealing a man in a black courier uniform, holding a high-powered flashlight in one hand and a heavy crowbar in the other. Behind him stood a second man holding a thick canvas bag—a kidnapping kit.
They didn't expect a six-foot-two CEO standing on the other side of the threshold.
Before the first man could raise his light, I slammed the heavy oak service door hard into his shoulder. He gasped in pain as the force drove him back into the narrow corridor wall. I stepped into the doorway, swinging the silver mallet square into the chest of the second intruder, sending him crashing backward down the metal fire stairs with a loud, metallic clatter.
“Frank! Forty-seventh floor, service staircase, NOW!” I barked into my wrist communicator.
The first man scrambled to his feet, pulling a stun gun from his jacket pocket. Sparks arced blue and bright in the dark stairwell. He lunged at me, aiming for my neck.
I caught his forearm, twisting his wrist downward until the stun gun clattered onto the concrete steps. I slammed him against the brick wall, pinning his throat with my forearm.
“Who paid you?” I snarled.
He gagged, his eyes wild with pain. “Vance... Vance said ten grand to bring the kids down to the alley!”
Heavy boots echoed up the stairwell as Frank and three armed security guards burst onto the landing, guns drawn.
“Take them,” I commanded, stepping back and wiping a streak of dust from my cuff. “Call the commissioner directly. Tell him I have two armed intruders inside my hotel who just confessed on security audio to attempted child abduction under the direction of Julian Vance.”
Frank grabbed the intruder by the collar, dragging him down the stairs. “On it, Mr. Martin.”
I turned back into the suite, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Anna was standing in the hallway, clutching a blanket around her shoulders, her face ghost-white as she looked at the open service door.
“They tried to take them,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “They were going to drag my babies out the back...”
I walked over to her, grabbing her shoulders gently but firmly. “They failed, Anna. They’re caught. And Vance just made the biggest mistake of his life.”
She looked up at me, her green eyes brimming with tears that finally overflowed, running down her pale cheeks. Without thinking, she stepped into my space, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing her forehead against my chest.
May you like
I froze for a fraction of a second—unused to physical touch that wasn't a corporate handshake—before wrapping my arms around her trembling back, pulling her close against my side.
“You’re safe,” I murmured into her hair. “I promise you, Anna. I won't let him touch them.”
