Chapter 4 - The Spider in the WebBy the following week, the atmosphere in the estate had subtly shifted. The staff noticed the change before anyone else—the way I hadn't thrown a glass paperweight in ten days, the way my voice didn't rattle the chandeliers when a nurse dropped a tray, and, most importantly, the presence of Emma wearing clean clothes, looking well-fed, and moving with a steady, energized pace.
She still refused to tiptoe around me. When she brought my lunch on Thursday, she slammed the tray down on my desk with a little more force than necessary.
"You're working too late in the study," she said, hands on her hips, eyeing the stack of financial ledgers. "Eat the steak before it gets cold, or I'm throwing it out."
"You're getting entirely too comfortable, Emma," I murmured, picking up my fork.
"I have fifty thousand reasons to make sure you stay alive, Mr. Vance," she shot back with a dry smile before turning on her heel and marching out of the room.
I was actually smiling—a rare, genuine expression—when the heavy doors swung open again, but the smile vanished the second I saw who walked in.
It wasn't Emma. It was Luke, and his face was carved out of granite. Behind him stood two of our armed security guards, dragging a man whose hands were zip-tied behind his back.
The captive was bleeding from the nose, his expensive Italian suit ruined by dirt and scuff marks. It was Julian Vance—no relation, despite the last name—a mid-level enforcer who had recently jumped ship from my organization over to Colin Mercer’s syndicate.
"Found him sniffing around the perimeter sensors on the North Gate," Luke reported, his voice low and dangerous. "He wasn't scouting, Danny. He was planting a listening device. And worse... he was asking about the new night maid."
My heart skipped a beat, a cold spike of adrenaline flooding my veins. I wheeled my chair forward, my eyes locking onto Julian, who was shaking with terror as he looked down at me.
"What did he ask, Julian?" I asked, my voice dangerously soft.
Julian swallowed hard, blood bubbling from his split lip. "M-Mercer... Mercer heard rumors. Word on the street is that the great Daniel Vance has finally found a weakness. A girl. Someone from the outside working inside his fortress."
The room went dead silent. You could hear the distant tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
"Mercer thinks you're slipping," Julian stammered, his eyes wide with panic. "He wanted to know her name, where she lives, what her schedule is. He wants to snatch her off the bus line to test how fast your empire crumbles when someone else bleeds."
A red mist descended over my vision. The phantom pain in my legs flared up, a sudden, burning electric shock that mirrored the fury raging inside my chest. Mercer was crossing a line that could not be uncrossed. He wasn't just coming for my territory anymore; he was coming for the only light that had pierced through the darkness of my tomb.
"Luke," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the absolute weight of a death sentence.
"Already on it," Luke replied grimly, pulling a Sig Sauer from his holster. "What do we do with the rat?"
"Send him back to Mercer," I commanded, my eyes fixed on Julian’s terrified face. "Cut off his left pinky finger, pack it in an ice box with a note that says: Touch her again, and I'll deliver the rest of you piece by piece. Then throw him over the North Side boundary line."
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"Done," Luke said, gesturing to the guards. As Julian was dragged away, screaming and thrashing, I turned my attention back to the desk.
The war had officially begun. And Mercer had no idea what kind of monster he had just awakened.
