Chapter 4 - The Uninvited Wolves
The rhythmic crack-crack-crack of high-caliber rifles echoed through the grand stairwell, shattering the tense silence of the bridal suite. Victoria’s bodyguards immediately shifted into defensive formations, two moving to flank the double doors, their weapons drawn and safeties clicked off.
Gabriel’s hand was inside his coat instantly, his fingers wrapped around the grip of a custom ceramic firearm. He tapped his earpiece, his jaw tightening as he listened to frantic communications over the encrypted radio channel.
"Report," Victoria said, her posture remains rigidly calm despite the imminent chaos.
"Hostiles breaching the eastern foyer," Gabriel answered swiftly. "Not law enforcement. Not Thorne loyalists either. Heavy body armor, silenced carbines, professional fire teams. They aren't trying to capture—they’re executing everyone in the hallway."
Julian scrambled on his hands and knees beneath the large vanity table, whimpering like a wounded animal. "It's the Bratva! I told you! The Petrov syndicate... I took fifty million from their escrow account last week to secure the wedding venue and our Mediterranean villa! They found out!"
Victoria turned slowly toward Silas, her gaze dripping with venom. "You allowed your idiot son to embezzle from the Petrov cartel while negotiating with me?"
Silas fell to his knees, clutching his chest. "I didn't know... Julian swore the funds were clean profits from our Hong Kong shipping route! If the Petrovs are here, they won't leave a single witness alive! You don't know Viktor Petrov—he burns entire buildings to ash just to kill one traitor!"
"I am well aware of who Viktor Petrov is," Victoria responded coldly. "Unlike you, I do not do business with rabid dogs without keeping a silver bullet in my chamber."
A loud bang vibrated against the double doors. Wood splintered around the frame. The bodyguard on the left gestured with two fingers, signaling that two hostile combatants were stacking up outside in the corridor.
"Gabriel, dismantle the door," Victoria ordered calmly.
Gabriel didn't hesitate. Raising his suppressed pistol, he fired five rapid shots directly through the heavy mahogany wood at shoulder level. Two muffled grunts and the heavy collapse of armored bodies followed immediately.
"Move," Gabriel directed. "We need to extract you to the subterranean bunker beneath the cellar."
"No," Victoria countered, stepping toward the mirror and casually reaching behind the ornate gilded frame. "Running is for those who are unprepared. Silas, Julian, you will stay right where you are. If you move toward the terrace, Marcus will shoot your kneecaps."
With a firm tug, Victoria activated a hidden pneumatic release behind the mirror. A section of the paneled white wall hissed and slid back, revealing a fully stocked armory concealed within the architectural lining of the bridal suite. Racks of tactical weapons, flash grenades, and Kevlar vests sat neatly arranged in the hidden recess.
Julian stared with bulging eyes. "You... you built a hidden bunker into my ancestral home?"
"Your ancestral home was built by an architect owned by the Vane family in 1912," Victoria said, unhooking a compact submachine gun with effortless familiarity. "I know every secret passage, every hollow wall, and every escape tunnel in this estate far better than you ever did."
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Suddenly, the remains of the double doors were kicked open by a heavy combat boot. A flash grenade rolled into the center of the room.
"Down!" Gabriel roared, lunging to shield Victoria. But before the flash could detonate, a single figure leaped through the balcony glass behind them, glass shards raining down like deadly diamonds.
