Chapter 4 - The Breach
Dominic moved with explosive speed.
Before the alarm’s second echo had faded through the vaulted ceiling of the study, his hand was already sliding beneath the mahogany desk to grip the heavy black Sig Sauer P226 stored in the magnetic holster. He racked the slide with a crisp, mechanical snap, checking the round in the chamber without looking down.
Elena sat up straight in her chair, her hands gripping the armrests, every instinct flaring back to life. “What is that?”
“The tech lab,” Dominic said, his voice hard as iron. “Lock yourself in the panic room behind the bookcase. Do not open it for anyone except me or Marco.”
“I’m not hiding,” Elena said, pushing herself up from the chair despite the sharp pain in her ribs.
“This isn't a debate, Elena,” Dominic commanded, his eyes locking onto hers with a terrifying, absolute force that brooked no argument. “Get in the room.”
Without waiting for her answer, Dominic pulled open the heavy study door and stepped out into the dark, oak-paneled hallway.
The mansion’s primary lighting flickered once and died, plunged into the dull, amber glow of the emergency backup generators. Along the corridor, the recessed wall sconces cast long, jagged shadows against the floral wallpaper.
From the staircase leading down to the second-floor laboratory wing came the distinct, suppressed thip-thip-thip of silenced gunfire.
Dominic moved down the hallway with the silent, fluid grace of an apex predator. He kept his back to the wall, his weapon raised, his boots making zero sound on the thick Persian runner.
As he reached the landing of the grand staircase, a body came tumbling down the steps from above.
It was one of his elite guards—a veteran named Vance (no relation to Julian Vance) who had guarded the eastern gates for eight years. A clean, single entry wound punctured the center of his tactical vest.
Dominic didn't hesitate. He dropped low, pivoting around the mahogany banister just as a suppressed round sparked off the brass railing inches from his ear.
Bang. Bang.
Dominic returned fire twice into the shadows of the upper hallway. A heavy thud indicated a hit, followed by the clatter of a tactical rifle hitting the hardwood floor.
“Boss!”
Marco’s voice echoed up from the lower laboratory stairwell, breathless and strained.
“Report!” Dominic called out, keeping his weapon trained on the upper corridor.
“The lab is secure, but they hit the main server rack with an EMP pulse before we could finish decrypting the microSD card!” Marco shouted back, coughing slightly as the acrid smell of burnt circuitry drifted up the stairwell. “They were after the data, Dominic! They didn't come to kill us—they came to wipe the drive!”
Dominic’s jaw tightened until the bone ached.
The microSD card.
He had left it with Marco to take down to the lab. But the traitor inside his organization hadn't just been hiding in the shadows—they had been tracking every move, anticipating the decryption attempt before it even began.
Which meant...
Dominic spun on his heel and sprinted back down the hallway toward his private study at a dead run.
May you like
If the tech lab was a diversion, then the real target was never the server room.
The real target was the woman sitting alone in the study.
