Chapter 3 - The Trap in the TowerMrs. Vance froze, her hand hovering in the air, her face turning pale. Marcus took a subtle step back, his right hand twitching near his hip where his pistol rested.
"Boss," Marcus said, his voice forced and placating. "Mrs. Vance was just trying to help. The child has been unstable since the accident. You know how delicate his mind is. This maid has clearly breached protocol by allowing this chaos—"
"Marcus," I interrupted smoothly, holding Alex tight against my chest. "Take Mrs. Vance down to the lower security room. Lock the doors. Neither of you leaves this building until I come downstairs."
"Boss, with all due respect—"
"Did I stutter?" I turned my gaze onto Marcus. The dark, lethal energy of the James family patriarch flared in my eyes, hitting him like a physical blow.
Marcus swallowed hard, realizing he was walking on a knife's edge. "Yes, Boss. Right away."
He grabbed Mrs. Vance by the elbow and escorted her back down the corridor. The moment their footsteps faded, I turned to Elizabeth.
"We have less than twenty minutes," Elizabeth said urgently, stepping closer. "Marcus isn't stupid. He knows you suspect something. The moment he gets down to the security booth, he's going to trigger a lockdown or call his outside men."
"He can't trigger a lockdown without my biometric pass," I said, setting Alex down gently on the clean marble island counter. "But he can try to erase the penthouse server logs. Elizabeth, can you access the private security feeds from nine months ago?"
"If I have your master admin clearance, yes," she said, her eyes flashing with sharp intelligence. "My FBI training wasn't just in psychology. I specialized in digital forensics."
I pulled a small black titanium keycard from my wallet and handed it to her. "The private terminal is in my study behind the bookcase. Go. Take Alex with you. Lock the door from the inside."
"What are you going to do?" she asked, taking the card.
"I am going to prepare a welcome party for the men Marcus is about to call," I said, pulling my firearm from my coat and checking the magazine with a sharp, practiced flick of my wrist.
Elizabeth looked at the gun, then at me. For a moment, I expected her—a former federal agent—to lecture me about the law. Instead, she reached out and placed a hand on my forearm.
"Don't let him ruin what we just got back, Andrew," she said softly, looking down at Alex, who was sitting quietly on the counter, watching us with big, bright eyes. "Alex needs his father alive."
"He'll have his father," I promised. "And he'll have justice for his mother."
Five minutes later, Elizabeth and Alex were locked safely inside my reinforced study. I walked back into the living room, stepping onto the grand balcony overlooking the city skyline. The morning sun was just beginning to hit the glass spires of Manhattan.
My private phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Marco, my most loyal lieutenant, who managed our family's physical operations in Brooklyn.
"Andrew," Marco's deep voice came through the encrypted line. "We just intercepted a private radio frequency originating from your penthouse building. Someone placed an emergency ping to an unregistered mercenary squad based in New Jersey."
"It was Marcus," I said, staring down at the quiet streets sixty floors below. "How many men?"
"Eight," Marco replied grimly. "Two vans just crossed the Lincoln Tunnel. They're heavily armed, Boss. They're coming to clean out the penthouse."
"How long until your team can get here?"
"Traffic is heavy, Boss. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes."
"That's too slow, Marco," I said, my voice hardening into granite. "Block the underground parking garage exits. Don't let anyone leave the building. I'll handle the penthouse myself."
"Andrew, you're alone up there with a maid and a kid!" Marco yelled over the phone.
"I'm not alone, Marco," I said, a dark smile touching my lips as I recalled the flour-covered kitchen and the brilliant woman hiding in my study. "I have family."
May you like
I ended the call and walked back toward the private elevator lobby. The electronic display above the elevator doors flickered. The lift was rising from the basement garage.
Marcus wasn't waiting for his mercenary team to arrive. He was coming up right now to finish what he started nine months ago.
