Chapter 5 - The Siege on the Avenue
The firefight lasted less than forty-five seconds.
Christian’s security detail—veteran tactical operators trained in close-quarters urban defense—flanked the two attacking sedans, disabling the engines with armor-piercing rounds and neutralizing the six mercenary contractors before they could breach the yard.
The heavy front door was kicked open.
Marco, Christian’s chief of operations, stepped into the dust-filled hallway with a carbine raised at the high ready.
"Perimeter secure, Don Christian!" Marco called out. "The street is locked down. We intercepted the contractors' radio relays—they were hired by Marcus Vance's private security network in Boston."
Christian rose from the floor, carrying both Emma and Oliver in his arms with effortless, protective power.
I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding in my throat, brushing drywall dust from my scrubs.
"Sophia, pack one bag," Christian commanded gently, looking at me with eyes that admitted no debate. "Your apartment is compromised. Marcus Vance and Beatrice knew Oliver was here because Beatrice tracked his phone’s final GPS ping before the battery died. You and Emma are coming to the Long Island fortress tonight."
I looked at the shattered glass in my living room, then at my daughter clinging tightly to Christian’s neck, feeling the fragile, peaceful life I had built in Queens dissolve into history.
"Ten minutes, Christian," I whispered.
May you like
Ten minutes later, carrying a single duffel bag of clothes and Emma’s favorite books, we climbed into the armored cabin of Christian’s Escalade.
The heavy ballistic doors sealed with a vacuum thud, and the convoy accelerated into the dark, tearing through the midnight streets toward the fortified estate on Long Island Sound.
