Chapter 5 - The Perimeter
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Panic finally broke the polite restraints of the Greenwich elite.
Screams erupted as the guests surged toward the front doors, desperate to escape the impending cartel hit. The board chairman tried to shove his way past Silas’s men, shouting about calling his private security firm.
“Hold the line!” Silas barked, his voice cutting through the hysteria like a gunshot.
The four heavy-coated enforcers immediately drew suppressed automatic weapons from beneath their coats. They didn't aim at the guests, but the sight of the heavy firearms was enough to freeze the crowd in their tracks.
“Nobody leaves,” Silas commanded. “If you walk out those doors, you are walking into the scopes of Vargas’s snipers. They have the property surrounded. If you want to live to see Christmas morning, you will sit down on the floor and shut your mouths.”
The wealthy bankers and their wives, people who had never been told 'no' a day in their lives, instantly dropped to the marble floor, ruining their expensive gowns and bespoke suits.
Silas tapped his earpiece. “Marcus, status.”
A voice crackled in his ear, loud enough for Serena to hear. “Perimeter is heavily compromised, Boss. We count at least twenty men in the woods, moving up the south lawn. They’re heavily armed. Tactical gear. They aren't here for a shakedown. They’re here for a slaughter.”
Silas’s jaw tightened. He turned to Serena. “Can you run?”
“I’m thirty-two weeks pregnant, Silas,” Serena said dryly, despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins. “I waddle aggressively at best.”
The corner of Silas’s mouth twitched upward for a fraction of a second. “Right. Marcus, we are holding the main house. Barricade the glass doors in the conservatory. Cut the main breaker. We fight in the dark.”
“Copy that, Boss.”
Silas looked down at Matthias, who was curled into a pathetic ball on the floor, weeping uncontrollably. “Get up,” Silas snarled, kicking Matthias sharply in the ribs.
Matthias groaned, clutching his side.
“I said get up!” Silas grabbed Matthias by the collar of his suit and hauled him to his feet. He turned to his men. “Take the mistress and the husband to the private study. Lock the reinforced doors. Serena, you’re with me.”
“What about my parents?!” Matthias cried, looking back at the older couple cowering near the fireplace.
“If they stay perfectly still, my men will keep them alive,” Silas said coldly. “But you and Fiona are the targets. You are coming with me.”
Suddenly, the massive chandelier above the foyer flickered. The lights buzzed violently for three seconds before the entire mansion plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness.
The power was cut.
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The Vargas cartel had arrived.
“Move!” Silas roared, grabbing Serena’s hand. His grip was entirely different from Matthias’s—it wasn't controlling; it was protective. He pulled her gently but firmly toward the grand staircase as the first sound of shattering glass echoed from the back of the house.
