Chapter 3 - The Guardian
I ordered my driver to break every traffic law in Texas as we raced back toward River Oaks.
The radio buzzed with frantic, chaotic chatter from my security team at the estate.
Gunfire echoed loudly through the encrypted channel, followed by the terrifying sound of men screaming.
I gripped my customized pistol so tightly that my knuckles turned completely white.
If anything happened to Avery and Sophie, I would burn the entire city of Houston to the ground.
We crashed through the ruined iron gates of my mansion, the tires sliding over shattered glass and bullet casings.
Marcus and I jumped out of the moving SUV before it even came to a full stop.
The front lawn was littered with the bodies of cartel mercenaries and my own loyal guards.
I sprinted through the shattered oak front doors, shouting my daughters' names into the smoke-filled foyer.
There was no answer.
I tore through the living room, the kitchen, and the library, finding nothing but destruction.
Panic gripped my chest with icy claws as I rushed toward the children's wing on the first floor.
The heavy wooden door to the playroom had been blown completely off its hinges.
I raised my weapon and stepped carefully into the room, preparing for a bloodbath.
Instead, I found three cartel assassins lying dead on the colorful alphabet rug.
Standing in the center of the room, breathing heavily, was Clara.
She was holding a suppressed tactical handgun with the perfect, relaxed grip of a professional killer.
Avery and Sophie were safely tucked behind a reinforced steel bookcase, completely unharmed.
Clara slowly lowered the weapon and looked at me with cold, calculating eyes.
"They tried to take the girls, Mr. Whitaker," she stated in a voice devoid of any emotion.
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I stared at the quiet maid who just executed three trained cartel killers in a matter of seconds.
"Who the hell are you really, Clara?" I demanded, raising my own gun to aim directly at her chest.
