Chapter 5 - The ReckoningThe intruder with the gun scrambled to pull his weapon from his waistband, his face contorted in panic. “Shoot him—”
Click.
Before his fingers could wrap around the grip, the heavy, metallic sound of three shotguns cocking simultaneously echoed from the shadowed archways surrounding the foyer.
From the library, the drawing room, and the front vestibule, Marcus Vance and six armed security specialists stepped out of the shadows, their barrels leveled squarely at the two men’s chests. There was no escape. Every exit was sealed.
The intruder dropped his hand instantly, his pistol clattering against the marble floor.
“Pick it up,” Callum commanded softly, walking slowly down the stairs. Each footstep sounded like a gavel falling in a courtroom.
The man stared up at him, paralyzed by fear.
“I said, pick it up,” Callum repeated, reaching the bottom of the stairs and stopping just two paces away. He didn't raise his own gun; he simply looked down at the shivering thug with the quiet, suffocating fury of a man whose sanctuary had been defiled. “Tell Victor Sterling that his Christmas present has arrived early. Tell him that trading in stolen ledgers is a terrible business model. And tell him that his debt to me is now due in full.”
The intruder swallowed hard, nodding rapidly. “W-We got it. Just... just let us walk out of here—”
“Walk out?” Callum cut him off, a humorless, chilling smile touching the corner of his lips. “You broke into a private residence on Christmas morning, assaulted my staff, and attempted to steal my property. You aren't walking anywhere except into a federal holding cell.”
Marcus stepped forward, clamping heavy steel zip-ties around the men’s wrists with brutal efficiency. Within two minutes, the intruders were dragged out through the front doors and shoved into the back of an unmarked transport van parked in the driveway.
By 9:00 AM, the snow had stopped, leaving Boston sparkling beneath a brilliant winter sun.
Callum sat at his desk in the ground-floor study. The stolen ledger was sitting right where it belonged. But the house felt different today. It felt empty without the quiet, methodical sound of Maeve’s footsteps moving down the hallway, ensuring everything was in its rightful place.
His phone buzzed on the mahogany wood.
It was an encrypted text from Marcus: “Sterling Logistics assets seized by federal marshals thirty minutes ago. Sterling himself is currently in transit to a federal holding facility in Rhode Island. Complete corporate liquidation in progress.”
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Callum locked his screen, tossed the phone onto the desk, and stood up.
It was time to pay a visit to St. Brendan’s Hospital.
