Chapter 8 - The Price Of Loyalty
The muzzle of Marcus's pistol was locked dead-center on Julian's chest. The silence in the ruined living room was absolute, broken only by the distant, rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock in the foyer.
"You think they're going to let you walk away with a payout, Marcus?" Julian said, taking another deliberate step forward, ignoring the warning gleam in his former head of security's eyes. "Men like the ones pulling your strings don't leave loose ends. The moment I'm dead, you become the biggest liability on their ledger."
Marcus’s finger tightened fractionally on the trigger, a flicker of doubt crossing his cold eyes for a split second before his professional mask snapped back into place. "You always did talk too much, Julian. Trying to negotiate your way out of a fire you started fifteen years ago."
Before Marcus could squeeze the trigger, a deafening explosion ripped through the western wing of the mansion. The shockwave blew out the massive floor-to-ceiling windows facing the courtyard, sending a tidal wave of shattered glass cascading across the marble floor. Flames erupted from the hallway behind Marcus, casting violent, flickering orange light across the room.
Marcus staggered back from the blast wave, his aim thrown off just enough. Julian lunged forward across the sticky, cake-smeared floor, bringing the heavy iron tire iron down in a brutal, sweeping arc that caught Marcus squarely across the wrist. The pistol flew from Marcus's hand, clattering away across the broken glass.
Marcus roared in pain, clutching his broken wrist, but before Julian could deliver a second blow, Victoria grabbed Julian's shoulder with staggering force.
"We don't have time!" Victoria yelled over the roar of the spreading fire. "The entire estate is rigged with C4. If we don't get Lily out right now, we'll all burn alive!"
Julian stared at Marcus, who was already scrambling backward toward the burning hallway, coughing heavily from the thick black smoke rolling across the ceiling. Julian’s chest heaved. He wanted to kill the traitor with his bare hands, but the thought of his daughter trapped upstairs snapped him back to reality.
He turned on his heel and sprinted back toward the grand staircase, leaping over the flaming debris scattered across the steps. As he reached the second-floor landing, his phone vibrated violently in his pocket. He pulled it out while running. The screen didn't show a text message this time; it was a live video feed from the nursery.
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The screen showed the nursery door slowly swinging open from the inside, revealing an empty room and a window wide open to the night air. Lily was gone.
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