Chapter 8 - The Siege of Hayes Estate
Clare didn't scream, and she didn't hesitate.
From the pocket of her emerald velvet gown, she slipped out the heavy brass key fob to the estate's central panic room—a solid chunk of weighted metal she had pocketed earlier. With all the force of her hospital-trained shoulders, she hurled it across the dark room directly into the glass display cabinet beside Arthur’s head.
The cabinet shattered in a deafening cascade of crystal trophies and tempered glass.
Arthur flinched instinctively, his weapon drifting two inches to the right.
That microsecond was all Valente needed.
Valente surged forward like an enraged lion. His first shot caught Arthur in the right shoulder, spinning the traitorous lieutenant around before his weapon could fire. Arthur bellowed in rage, firing a wild burst into the ceiling as he crashed heavily into the mahogany desk.
""Clare! Grab Colin and Leo!"" Valente roared, firing two more suppression rounds as Arthur scrambled through the adjoining balcony door onto the rain-slick terrace.
Clare dashed across the room, scooping the terrified five-year-old into her arms. ""I've got you, Colin, you're safe!"" she cried, pulling the sobbing boy against her chest. She dropped to her knees beside her brother, ripping the duct tape from Leo's mouth.
""Norah... oh God, Norah, I'm so sorry..."" Leo choked out, sobbing in terror and shame.
""Shut up and move!"" she snapped with fierce medical command, slicing his wrist bindings with a shard of broken glass from the cabinet. ""Down the back service stairs, now!""
Outside, the estate grounds erupted into war.
Dominic Romano’s mercenary assault teams, having breached the disabled perimeter gates, opened fire with automatic weapons. Glass exploded along the second-story corridors. Valente’s loyal internal guards, rallying from the basement barracks, returned fire with relentless fury. The thunderous roar of gunfire and breaking glass turned the luxury estate into an inferno.
Valente stepped back into the doorway, ejecting an empty magazine and slapping a fresh one home with brutal precision. His tuxedo was torn, and blood dripped from a graze on his temple, but his eyes were focused with absolute clarity.
""The panic room is in the wine cellar beneath the west wing,"" Valente ordered, grabbing Leo by the collar and shoving him toward the stairs. ""Take your brother and Colin. Lock the steel bulkhead from the inside. It has a dedicated satellite beacon that will summon the state police.""
""I am not leaving you!"" Clare shouted over the deafening rattle of automatic rifles echoing from the lower foyer.
Valente grabbed her face in both of his bloodstained hands, kissing her fiercely amidst the smoke and plaster dust. ""You have to protect our son, Clare. Go!""
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Calling Colin their son pierced Clare’s soul. She nodded through her tears, hoisted Colin tighter, and guided her stumbling, limping brother down the narrow spiral staircase toward the reinforced foundations of the house.
Behind them, Valente turned toward the sound of the approaching assault. He wasn't running. He was going to end Dominic Romano’s dynasty once and for all.
