Chapter 10 - The Second Threat
The warning hung in the air like a poisoned cloud. Before the police officer could even process David’s words, a sharp, piercing alarm echoed through the entire penthouse.
It wasn't the building’s fire alarm. It was the private security system’s perimeter breach notification, flashing a bright, pulsing red light above the private elevator foyer.
"The service stairwell door on this floor has been forced open!" the second officer shouted, immediately drawing his weapon and spinning toward the hallway. "Someone is overriding the security locks from the inside!"
"Get back, everyone! Stay behind the kitchen island!" the first officer commanded, shoving David and Margaret toward the heavy marble counter while taking a tactical stance near the hallway entrance.
Leo clutched his grandmother’s waist so tightly his knuckles turned white. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. The terrifying image of the muddy work boots flashed back into his mind. If Marcus was coming back up the service stairs, that meant the man who had attacked Clara was still loose in the building, or worse—Marcus had an accomplice.
"David, where is the panic room?" Margaret demanded urgently, her eyes darting toward the hallway. "We need to get Leo out of here right now!"
"There is no panic room in this apartment, Ma!" David yelled back over the blaring security alarm, his hands trembling as he stared down the dark corridor. "Marcus designed the security layout himself. He knows every blind spot!"
Heavy, rapid footsteps echoed up the private service staircase. Someone was running with deliberate, heavy strides, ignoring the blaring alarm entirely. The sound grew closer by the second, vibrating through the luxury penthouse floors.
"Police! Halt! Drop to the ground with your hands visible!" the officer shouted down the hallway as a dark figure rounded the corner into the foyer.
Instead of complying, the figure lunged forward into the harsh light. It wasn't Marcus.
It was a tall, burly man wearing a dark construction hoodie, his face half-concealed by a black balaclava. In his right hand, he clutched a heavy iron crowbar, the metal glinting menacingly under the ceiling lights.
Without a word, the intruder hurled the crowbar directly at the police officer.
The officer dodged to the side just in time, the heavy tool crashing into the kitchen cabinets with a deafening splinter of wood. Before the officer could recover his aim, the intruder tackled him to the ground, sending their weapons clattering across the polished hardwood floor.
"Dad, help him!" Leo screamed, burying his face in Margaret’s coat as the sound of brutal struggling filled the room.
David didn't hesitate. He grabbed a heavy brass statue off the living room side table and charged toward the wrestling men. But before David could reach them, a cold, hard piece of metal pressed firmly against the back of his neck.
"Don't even think about it, brother," a smooth, chilling voice whispered right behind David’s ear.
David froze, the brass statue slipping from his fingers and hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Stepping out from the shadows of the hallway, lowering his balaclava, was Marcus Miller. His suit was immaculate, completely untouched by the violence of the night—except for a small, dark smear of blood on his right cuff.
Marcus smiled coldly, his eyes locking onto Margaret and the terrified boy holding onto her.
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"Well, family reunion," Marcus sneered softly. "I told you, David. You can't hide your secrets forever."
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