Chapter 5 - The Chessboard MovesThe following night, the estate was locked down tighter than a federal penitentiary. Additional guards patrolled the perimeter fence, thermal cameras scanned the tree lines, and every interior door was secured.
I sat in my study, staring at the digital security feeds spread across three computer monitors. Every camera feed was green and clear—except for the service entrance in the East Wing.
A sudden flash of movement caught my eye.
I zoomed in on the camera covering the rear loading dock. A sleek black van had pulled up right up to the service bay, bypassing the exterior motion sensors by cutting the power grid for thirty seconds. Three men in tactical gear, faces covered in black balaclavas, stepped out of the vehicle.
They weren't local thugs. They were North Side professionals—mercenaries hired by Mercer to slip inside, grab Emma, and disappear before our guards could mobilize.
"Luke!" I barked into the desk intercom. "East Wing service bay. Three intruders breaching the rear loading dock. They're coming for Emma."
"I've got guards en route," Luke’s voice crackled back over the radio, tense and fast. "ETA forty seconds."
Forty seconds was too long. The intruders were already through the outer fire door, moving with terrifying speed down the hallway toward the laundry room and staff quarters—precisely where Emma was finishing her shift.
I didn't wait for Luke.
I grabbed my Glock from the holster mounted beneath my desk, threw the manual locks on my wheelchair into high gear, and drove my chair out of the study with reckless speed, my tires screeching against the polished marble floor.
I knew this house better than anyone. Every blind corner, every hidden passage, every shortcut through the old servants' corridors.
I wheeled through the dark hallway, my heart hammering against my ribs, cutting off the direct route to the East Wing. If I could intercept them before they reached the staff quarters, I could use the element of surprise.
As I rounded the corner near the walk-in linen closet, I slammed on my brakes.
Two of Mercer’s men were jogging down the corridor, weapons raised. They froze when they saw me sitting in the middle of the hallway, blocking their path.
"Well, look what we have here," the lead mercenary sneered, lowering his rifle barrel toward my chest. "The crippled kingpin himself. Boss said if we couldn't find the girl, taking you out would be even better."
He didn't finish the sentence.
Before his finger could tighten on the trigger, I raised my Glock and fired twice. The silenced shots made a sharp thwack-thwack sound. The lead mercenary dropped instantly, a clean hole between his eyes. The second man screamed, stumbling backward, but before he could raise his weapon, a heavy bronze statue came crashing down over his head from behind.
I looked up.
Standing behind the second mercenary, holding a heavy decorative bookend with both hands and breathing heavily, was Emma.
She had been right inside the linen closet when the men rushed past. Instead of hiding, she had grabbed a weapon and waited for her moment.
"What the hell are you doing out of the study?!" I roared, my heart leaping into my throat. "I told you to stay locked in the secure zone!"
"They were coming for me!" she shouted back, her chest heaving, dropping the bookend with a loud thud. "I'm not going to sit in a room and wait to be kidnapped while you bleed out for me!"
Before I could chew her out, the third mercenary rounded the corner from the opposite end of the hall, gun raised, spotting us both.
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"Danny!" Emma cried out.
Without a second thought, she threw herself directly in front of my wheelchair, using her own body as a shield.
