Chapter 8: The Siege of the Cabin**
Four armed men stepped out from the pine trees, wearing tactical gear and carrying suppressed automatic rifles. They moved with disciplined precision—Dominic's elite private mercenaries, not clumsy street enforcers.
Marcus didn't wait for them to breach the door. He kicked the front window open and fired two rapid, deafening shots with the hunting rifle. The lead mercenary dropped instantly.
Automatic gunfire erupted, tearing through the cedar walls, shattering glass, and splintering antique furniture into clouds of wood dust. Marcus rolled behind the reinforced stone fireplace, returning fire with measured, deadly accuracy. Every shot he took was calibrated with cold efficiency.
He moved from corner to corner like a wraith, utilizing every blind spot in the cabin he had prepared years prior. Within two minutes, three of the attackers lay motionless in the snow-dusted front yard.
The fourth mercenary, wounded in the shoulder, retreated toward a black SUV idling on the gravel path. Marcus pursued him out into the freezing air, leveling his sidearm.
"Who gave you this location?" Marcus demanded, his voice slicing through the cold mountain wind.
The dying mercenary coughed, spitting crimson onto the snow. "Dominic... tracked the sedan's transponder... He’s already at the city docks, Marcus... He's liquidating everything and leaving the country tonight."
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Marcus lowered the weapon as the man slumped over. The cabin was compromised. Dominic had to be stopped permanently, or Lily would spend the rest of her life running from ghosts.
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