Chapter 16 - The Birth in the Vault
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The steel doors of the penthouse dented inward with a terrifying CLANG. Matthias’s men had brought breaching rams.
Serena screamed, a primal, echoing sound that drowned out the violence outside. She pushed with every ounce of strength in her exhausted body, her face flushed, sweat pouring down her forehead.
Silas didn't flinch at the sound of the door buckling. His entire focus was locked onto Serena.
“You're doing perfectly, Serena,” Silas encouraged, his hands poised and ready. “One more push. Just one more, she’s almost here.”
CLANG. Another massive strike against the steel door. The hinges groaned in protest.
“Silas, if they get in—” Serena choked out, terrified for her daughter’s life.
“They won't,” Silas promised, his icy eyes meeting hers. “Push!”
Serena let out a final, agonizing cry, arching her back as her body took over entirely.
In the chaotic, muffled silence of the armored penthouse, a new sound emerged. A sharp, clear, and perfectly healthy wail.
Silas gently cradled the tiny, slippery infant in his large, scarred hands. A rare, genuine smile broke across his hardened face. He carefully cleared the baby’s mouth and nose with the edge of his silk shirt, waiting for her to take her first full breath.
The baby cried louder, her tiny fists waving in the air.
“She’s beautiful, Serena,” Silas whispered, his voice thick with an emotion he hadn't felt in decades. He gently placed the crying newborn onto Serena’s chest.
Serena collapsed against the velvet cushions, sobbing with pure relief and overwhelming love as she wrapped her arms around her daughter. The baby was warm, perfect, and alive.
BOOM.
The heavy steel door of the penthouse finally blew inward, smoke and debris billowing into the grand room.
Silas’s tender expression vanished in a microsecond. He stood up, placing himself squarely in front of Serena and the baby, retrieving his heavy pistol from the coffee table. He racked the slide, aiming at the smoke-filled doorway.
Three mercenaries stepped through the smoke, aiming assault rifles.
They didn't even have time to pull their triggers.
Silas fired three times in rapid, mechanical succession. Bang. Bang. Bang.
All three men dropped with clean headshots, falling dead onto the hardwood floor.
A slow, arrogant clapping echoed from the hallway.
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Stepping over the bodies of his own dead men, dressed in a pristine white suit that looked entirely ridiculous in the middle of a warzone, was Matthias. He held a silver revolver in his hand, a manic, deranged smile on his face.
“Well, well,” Matthias sneered, looking past Silas to see Serena holding the baby. “A touching family moment. Shame it has to end so quickly.”
