Chapter 7 - The Midnight Convoy
Within twenty minutes, the estate's private courtyard was a staging ground for a military-grade extraction. Three matte-black armored SUVs idled quietly, their headlights casting harsh beams across the manicured lawns. The neighborhood security guards, who had previously strutted around like they owned the gated community, were locked inside their respective homes, having been decisively warned by my operatives to stay away from their windows.
Caroline, Cynthia, and the two sobbing socialites were escorted out of the manor under armed guard. Their designer heels clicked miserably against the cobblestone as the cold night air bit into their expensive evening wear. There were no gentle words, no allowances for their social status. They were treated with the exact cold, clinical efficiency reserved for high-value targets in a war zone.
"Where are you taking us?" Cynthia cried out, stumbling as an operative gently but firmly guided her toward the rear door of the second vehicle. "You can't kidnap us! This is illegal!"
"Illegal is a word used by people who don't own the courts," Thorne replied coldly, holding the door open for her. "Get in."
I walked down the grand steps last, pausing to look back at the sprawling mansion. For five years, this house had been a cage disguised as a sanctuary. No more. The illusion of normalcy was shattered, and the true sovereign of the underworld had reclaimed his throne.
May you like
As I climbed into the lead vehicle, Kael handed me an encrypted satellite phone. "Richard is awake, boss. He wants to know why his men haven't arrived."
I took the phone, a dark, calculating smile forming on my lips. "Tell him his rescue party is already on the way. And put it on speaker."
