Chapter 6 - Rourke’s Reckoning
The hallway outside the study exploded into sudden, violent chaos.
Muffled shouts, the sharp, hollow thuds of suppressed gunfire, and the shattering of reinforced glass echoed through the sprawling safehouse.
Dominic slipped out into the corridor, vanishing into the shadows like smoke.
Nora didn’t hide in the corner. Adrenaline surged through her veins, overriding every injury, every ache, every ounce of exhaustion. She knew she couldn't fight trained syndicate enforcers hand-to-hand, but she knew the layout of the study better than anyone.
She rushed to the heavy oak desk, opening the bottom drawer. Inside sat a secondary security monitor wired to the estate’s exterior cameras.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard, bringing up the feed from the front courtyard.
There, standing near a idling black SUV amidst a squad of heavily armed mercenaries, was a tall, silver-haired man in an expensive wool trench coat.
Rourke.
Even through the graininess of the night-vision camera, Rourke’s face wore that smug, untouchable smirk of a man who believed he held all the winning cards.
Suddenly, the screen flickered.
Footsteps pounded down the hallway toward the study door.
Bang! Bang!
Bullets chewed through the wooden panels of the study door, splintering the lock.
Nora dove behind the heavy mahogany desk just as the door was kicked open. Two armed mercenaries burst into the room, their tactical flashlights sweeping across the darkness.
“Clear!” one shouted.
“Check the desk!”
Before the second man could round the corner of the desk, the study window behind them shattered inward in a shower of glass.
Dominic dropped silently from the second-story exterior ledge, landing squarely behind the two intruders.
Before they could turn, Dominic struck with brutal, efficient lethality. The butt of his pistol connected with the first man’s temple, dropping him instantly to the floor. As the second man whirled around, Dominic swept his legs out, pinning him to the carpet and pressing the barrel of his gun against the man’s throat.
“Where is Rourke?” Dominic demanded, his voice cold enough to freeze blood.
“He’s... he’s in the courtyard!” the mercenary choked out, dropping his weapon.
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Dominic didn’t hesitate. He knocked the man unconscious with a single blow, then turned toward Nora, who was standing behind the desk, trembling but resolute.
“Come with me,” Dominic said, grabbing her hand. “We’re going to end this tonight.”
