Chapter 6 - The Breach

I stared endlessly at the glowing monitor, entirely paralyzed by the impossible truth.

My father was not only alive, but he was orchestrating a massive, deadly criminal empire.

Sofia had stolen his most sensitive financial data, and she had used my estate as her personal hiding place.

My father had strategically planted Vivienne in my life to act as his beautiful, lethal spy.

He had hired Marco to eliminate Sofia when she finally outlived her usefulness.

The sudden, piercing scream of the estate’s perimeter breach alarm shattered the silence.

Red emergency lights began flashing wildly in the dark server room.

I quickly ejected the microdot, shoved it back into the ring, and put the ring securely on my own finger.

I grabbed a loaded tactical pistol from the emergency lockbox bolted under the desk.

I ran out of the server room and checked the digital security panel in the hallway.

Multiple heavily armed tactical teams were currently breaching the front gates of my estate.

They were not local police or federal agents.

They were highly trained mercenaries dressed in entirely unmarked black combat gear.

I heard the terrifying sound of automatic gunfire erupting from the main drawing room.

My wealthy dinner guests were screaming in absolute terror as the windows shattered.

I did not have time to save my corrupt friends or confront my treacherous fiancée.

I only had to save one innocent life in this entire cursed house.

I sprinted frantically up the back servant staircase, taking the wooden steps two at a time.

I kicked open the door to the nursery with my gun raised and ready to fire.

The room was completely empty.

Rosie’s favorite stuffed rabbit was lying abandoned on the floor in a small puddle of blood.

Panic seized my chest with a violently tight grip.

I ran back out into the chaotic hallway, desperately tracking small, bloody footprints on the expensive carpet.

The tiny footprints led directly toward the master bedroom suite at the end of the hall.

I crept silently along the wall, gripping my pistol with dangerously sweaty hands.

I peeked around the heavy doorframe of my own bedroom.

Vivienne was standing in the center of the room, holding a terrified, bleeding Rosie tightly by the arm.

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Nine years after a car bomb killed his wife

The day I went to the hospital to discuss ending my pregnancy

Nearly two hundred people watched me stand alone

Vivienne had a silver revolver pressed firmly against the child’s small head.

“Put the gun down, Damian, or I paint your bedroom with her brains,” Vivienne said coldly.