Chapter 3 - The Breach at LexingtonAt 10:30 AM, the quiet security monitors inside Maya’s law office suddenly flared with bright amber warning lights.
Maya’s private assistant rushed into the office, his face pale, holding an emergency tablet.
"Miss Reyes," the assistant reported urgently, "we have three black SUVs running through the subterranean garage check! They aren't responding to building security codes!"
Maya looked at me, her sharp eyes tight. "Victor found out about Box 204. Vincent tracked your car."
I didn't panic. The terrifying, sovereign calm that had made the Moretti name feared across New York descended over my shoulders like a heavy iron cloak.
I stood up from the sofa, lifting Lily into my left arm, resting her securely against my hip while my right hand pulled a custom, suppressed sidearm from my shoulder holster.
"Maya," I commanded cleanly, "take the titanium hard drive and the DNA original. Use the private service elevator to the sub-basement. My secondary tactical team is waiting at the north exit."
"What about you, Adrian?" Maya asked, pulling her coat from the rack.
"I am going to meet my chief of security," I answered softly, my gray eyes turning to cold, unyielding flint.
The heavy double glass doors of Maya’s reception lobby were blown inward with a deafening CRACK.
Wood splinters and glass rained across the marble floor as four armed men in dark suits flooded into the suite.
Leading them was Vincent—my chief of security for twelve years—carrying a short-barrel automatic rifle, his dark face tight with predatory focus.
"Adrian," Vincent spoke, his voice rough, cold, and devoid of his usual respectful tone. "Hand the girl and the box over. Mr. Romano wants this resolved before the afternoon board meeting."
I stood tall in the center of the office aisle, holding four-year-old Lily against my chest, shielding her body with my own broad frame.
"You took eight hundred thousand dollars from Victor Romano, Vincent," I said softly, every word dropped like an iron weight into the quiet room. "To watch my daughter live as a housekeeper's child in my own home."
May you like
Vincent’s jaw tightened, his fingers resting heavy on the trigger of his rifle. "It was business, Adrian! Your father was weak, and you were too busy playing the legitimate businessman! Victor Romano runs this city!"
"Victor Romano built his empire on lies, Vincent," I murmured cleanly, my posture fluid, absolute, and lethal. "And you just walked into my trap."
Related Stories
