Chapter 2 - The Sins of the Past
Gabriel did not hesitate for a single fraction of a second as the grenade hit the floor.
He violently kicked the heavy oak door directly over the explosive device to muffle the blast.
The ensuing explosion still shattered every tall window in the grand foyer and sent sharp glass raining down everywhere.
Gabriel quickly shielded his face with his muscular arms and pushed fiercely through the thick, gray smoke.
His highly trained guards immediately opened fire, filling the chaotic room with deafening gunshots.
However, Maren’s dangerous ex-husband, David, had already ducked safely behind a reinforced armored SUV parked outside.
David shouted loudly over the relentless gunfire that he certainly did not come to this mansion alone.
Dozens of heavily armed, ruthless mercenaries dressed in tactical gear suddenly swarmed the manicured lawn of the estate.
They returned fire with terrifying precision, instantly pinning Gabriel’s security team behind the marble pillars.
Gabriel quickly retreated back up the grand staircase and grabbed Maren tightly by her shaking shoulders.
He stared directly into her panicked eyes and demanded to know who her ex-husband truly worked for.
Maren wept uncontrollably and confessed that David was actually the top enforcer for the brutal Russian syndicate.
She had fled into the rainy night weeks ago because David planned to sell Nora to settle a massive gambling debt.
Gabriel felt a cold, murderous rage instantly replace the warm blood flowing through his veins.
He gently picked up the terrified, crying toddler and quickly ushered Maren toward his private executive office.
There was a highly secure, hidden panic room behind his mahogany bookshelf that could withstand a literal nuclear blast.
They sprinted frantically down the dark, carpeted hallway as enemy bullets ruthlessly tore through the expensive vintage wallpaper.
Gabriel quickly punched his secret emergency access code into the digital keypad and shoved them safely inside.
He urgently turned around to manually seal the heavy, impenetrable steel door behind them.
Suddenly, a cold, metallic gun barrel pressed firmly and deliberately against the back of his neck.
Gabriel slowly turned his head, fully expecting to see a Russian mercenary standing behind him.
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Instead, he stared in absolute, paralyzing shock at Mrs. Whitfield, his loyal housekeeper of twenty years.
She slowly cocked the hammer of her heavy revolver with a trembling, apologetic hand.
