Chapter 13 - The Ramming at the Gates
The sickening crunch of metal twisting against metal echoed violently across the estate grounds, shaking the very foundations of Blackwood Manor. Julian Sterling’s head snapped down toward his tablet, his fingers flying across the glass screen as the security system flashed a blinding, urgent crimson warning.
"They've rammed the security gate with their sedan," Julian stated sharply, his baritone voice devoid of panic but laced with absolute urgency. "The automatic override is locked, but the secondary hydraulic barriers won't hold up against a direct vehicular impact for more than two minutes."
Arthur Vance didn't even blink. He simply turned back toward the massive mahogany front doors, his expression hardening into a mask of pure, unyielding resolve. He tapped his cherry-wood cane twice against the polished marble floor, the sharp sound echoing like a gunshot through the soaring foyer.
"Let them break their toys," Arthur said evenly, his voice carrying an icy calm that commanded absolute obedience. "Blackwood Manor was engineered to withstand worse than a desperate accountant in a rented sedan."
Vivienne tightened her grip on Leo, pulling the boy back toward the vaulted arches of the inner hallway away from the main entrance. "Arthur, we can't let them breach the house. If they have local law enforcement in their pocket, this could turn into a legal nightmare that takes months to untangle."
"There is no legal nightmare left, Vivienne," Arthur replied, turning to face her with a fierce, burning light in his gray eyes. "The moment Harrison rammed a private gate registered under federal maritime protection, he crossed from civil corporate fraud straight into felony domestic terrorism. Julian has already routed the live perimeter feed directly to the federal prosecutor's desk in Washington."
As if on cue, the heavy iron gates down at the end of the driveway groaned with a final, metallic shriek and gave way, crashing flat against the stone pillars with a deafening bang. The battered luxury sedan surged forward, its tires spinning wildly on the gravel as it tore up the winding drive toward the front porch, the broken headlight swinging crazily from its wires.
Julian slipped his phone away, meeting Vivienne’s anxious gaze with a reassuring nod. "The federal marshals are five minutes out. We just need to hold the threshold."
Harrison’s sedan slammed to a violent halt right at the base of the grand marble steps, the engine smoking and sputtering as steam hissed from under the crushed hood.
May you like
The driver's side door flew open, and Harrison tumbled out onto the stone, his face wild and contorted with absolute rage.
---
