Chapter 15 - The Vanishing Evidence
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Before either of them could speak another word, the heavy silence of the house was shattered by the sound of glass breaking on the ground floor.
Wesley instantly reached for his gun on the table, his body going rigid.
“Stay here with Norah,” Wesley ordered, standing up despite his injury. “Lock the door behind me.”
“Wesley, wait!” Ruth cried softly. “Your guards are outside!”
“If glass is breaking, my guards are already compromised,” Wesley hissed, pulling the slide back on his pistol.
He stepped out into the hallway, moving silently along the shadow-draped walls toward the grand staircase. Below, in the darkened foyer, three figures dressed in black tactical gear were moving swiftly toward the study.
They were professional hitmen— mercenaries hired not by the dead Valenti, but by someone higher up in the city's syndicate network.
Wesley crept down the stairs, every muscle primed for violent action.
Suddenly, one of the intruders pointed a silent, laser-guided rifle up toward the balcony. The red dot danced across Wesley’s chest.
“He’s upstairs!” the hitman shouted.
Gunfire erupted, shattering the pristine marble pillars of the foyer. Wesley threw himself behind a heavy oak sideboard as bullets chewed through the plaster above his head.
Upstairs, Ruth locked Norah’s door, sliding the heavy brass bolt into place. She ran to the bed, grabbing the terrified girl and pulling her down onto the floor beneath the heavy mahogany desk.
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“Stay down, Norah!” Ruth whispered, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
From below came the roar of heavy gunfire, the sound of glass shattering, and the deep, angry shouts of Wesley Cain fighting for his life.
