Chapter 18 - A Queen's Sacrifice
Bullets hammered relentlessly against the steel barricade, chewing through the metal and throwing painful sparks into my face. I was trapped, unable to move a single inch without exposing myself to the sniper fire from the ship’s deck above.
Through the thick, swirling fog, I saw the mercenaries slowly advancing toward my position, moving in a tight, tactical formation. They were going to flank me and execute me like a cornered animal.
Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the docks. Clara had detonated the C4 charge on the primary walkway, sending a shockwave of fire and shrapnel into the air. The blast completely severed the mercenaries’ escape route to the boat, throwing several of them into the freezing river.
The machine-gun fire from the ship abruptly stopped. I peeked around the shredded metal barricade and felt my heart plummet into my stomach.
Clara was standing in the open, her hands raised above her head, completely surrounded by five of Dominic’s elite guards. She had deliberately exposed her position to draw their fire away from me.
“Hold your fire!” Dominic’s voice commanded through the megaphone. “Bring the girl to the ship! Leave Bennett in the dirt. He can watch me break his precious wife before I kill him.”
I screamed Clara’s name, raising my rifle to shoot the men holding her, but she caught my eye and subtly shook her head. Her expression was perfectly calm, almost serene. She deliberately tapped the side of her tactical watch twice before they bound her hands and dragged her roughly up the gangway onto the massive cargo ship.
I fell back into the shadows as the ship’s engines roared to life, slowly pulling away from the dock and heading down the river toward the abandoned ironworks.
I slammed my fist into the concrete in absolute despair. I had lost her.
My encrypted phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a flashing red dot on the digital map screen. Clara hadn't tapped her watch in surrender; she had activated a military-grade micro-beacon hidden inside the casing. She wasn't just a hostage; she was a trojan horse.
She had willingly let herself be captured so she could bypass the heavily fortified perimeter of the ironworks from the inside.
I sprinted back to the armored sports car and slammed my foot on the gas, tearing through the city streets. I called Marcus on the secure channel.
“Marcus, rally every single loyal man we have left,” I ordered, my voice cold and devoid of any mercy. “Arm them with everything in the vault. We are hitting the ironworks tonight. We leave no survivors.”
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“Understood, boss,” Marcus replied firmly. “What’s the objective?”
“We are going to rip my father’s empire apart brick by brick,” I vowed, loading a fresh magazine into my weapon as I drove. “And we are bringing our queen home.”
