Chapter 4 - The Siege of the Estate
The storm broke over South Louisiana at midnight.
Torrential rain battered the slate roof of the Castellano estate, while heavy lightning flashed across the dark night sky, illuminating the sprawling oaks and muddy lawns.
Inside the master bedroom suite on the third floor, Camille sat on the edge of the plush king-sized bed, gently stroking Adeline’s dark hair as the toddler slept peacefully, clutching her green alligator.
The suite had been converted into a high-security bunker. Thick steel shutters had slid down over the windows, and two elite guards stood outside the double doors.
Vincent walked into the room, wearing a tactical black shirt, dark trousers, and a shoulder holster containing his custom silver 9mm handgun.
"She sleeps deeply," Vincent remarked quietly, standing beside the bed, looking down at Adeline.
"She trusts this place," Camille whispered, looking up at him. "She trusts you."
Vincent sat on the edge of the mattress, close to Camille. In the dim lamplight, the sharp, severe lines of his face looked softer.
"Camille," Vincent spoke softly, taking her small hand into his broad palm. "If anything happens tonight... if things go wrong—"
"Don't say that," Camille interrupted, her voice trembling as she covered his hand with her other palm. "Nothing is going to happen. You're going to protect us."
Vincent looked into her eyes, feeling an overwhelming wave of affection and protective instinct. "Before three weeks ago, I thought my life was completely settled. I thought I was meant to live in this massive, empty house alone, dealing with blood and money until someone eventually put a bullet in me. But then Addie walked into my office. And then you came into my life."
Camille felt tears warm her eyes. "Vincent..."
"I love her, Camille," Vincent confessed, his voice rough with emotion. "And I have fallen completely in love with you. If we survive tonight... I want you to stay. Not as my housekeeper. As my wife. As the mother of this household."
Camille gasped softly, a tear spilling down her cheek. Before she could answer, the lights inside the room flickered wildly and went completely dark.
A second later, the deep, dull thud of an explosion shook the foundation of the house.
BOOM!
Emergency red backup lights clicked on instantly, bathing the bedroom in a ominous, crimson glow.
The heavy steel doors burst open, and Marcus rushed in, holding an automatic rifle, his face covered in rain and gunpowder smoke.
"They breached the eastern gate!" Marcus shouted over the sound of distant gunfire echoing from the floor below. "Dominic used a thermal charge to blow the main power grid! He brought thirty of Moretti’s mercs! They're inside the lower level!"
Vincent stood up instantly, drawing his silver handgun from his holster with fluid, lethal grace.
"Camille, get into the safe room behind the closet!" Vincent ordered, pulling open the hidden panel inside the master closet that revealed a reinforced steel panic room. "Do not come out until Marcus or I open this door!"
"Vincent, no!" Camille cried out, grabbing his arm, terror in her eyes. "You aren't fully healed! Your stitches—"
"I am fine," Vincent said fiercely, taking her face in his hands and pressing a deep, breathless kiss onto her lips. "Hide now. I love you."
He pushed her and Adeline gently into the safe room and slammed the reinforced steel door shut, locking it from the outside.
Vincent turned to Marcus, his dark eyes burning with demonic fury.
"Let's go hunting," Vincent growled.
The two men charged down the marble staircase into the main hall, where a full-scale battle was raging. Muzzle flashes lit up the dark, rain-soaked corridors as Castellano guards traded gunfire with Moretti's tactical mercenaries.
Vincent moved like a ghost through his own home. Despite his lingering internal injuries, his combat instincts were razor-sharp. He fired with terrifying precision, dropping three invading mercenaries who attempted to reach the second-floor stairs.
"Vincent!" a harsh, frantic voice yelled from the grand foyer.
Vincent looked down over the balcony railing.
Standing near the shattered front doors was Dominic Vane, holding an assault rifle, surrounded by four heavy mercenaries. Beside him stood Julian Moretti—a tall, skeletal man with a wicked scar across his mouth.
"Come out, nephew!" Dominic screamed hysterically, firing a burst of bullets into the ceiling plaster. "You took everything from me! My status, my money, my family name! Today I burn your castle to the ground and take your crown!"
Vincent stepped out onto the top of the grand staircase, standing fully illuminated in the red emergency light, holding his silver handgun at his side.
"You always were an idiot, Uncle," Vincent said, his voice echoing through the grand hall like thunder. "You brought thirty men into my home. But you forgot one thing."
Dominic frowned, raising his rifle. "What's that?!"
"This is my estate," Vincent snarled. "And I know where every trap is set."
Vincent pressed a small remote control in his left hand.
CLICK.
Instantly, heavy steel blast doors dropped down over every entrance and window on the ground floor, trapping Dominic, Moretti, and their remaining men inside the foyer. At the same time, high-intensity strobe lights blinded the mercenaries, while Marcus and six Castellano marksmen opened fire from the upper balconies.
In less than two minutes, the ambush was absolute. Moretti’s mercenaries were systematically eliminated.
Julian Moretti dropped his weapon, throwing his hands in the air, before Marcus pinned him to the floor with a heavy boot.
Dominic Vane, bleeding from a shoulder wound, stumbled backward against the sealed front doors, dropping his empty rifle in pure, hysterical panic.
Vincent walked down the grand marble staircase slowly, his silver handgun pointed straight at Dominic’s forehead.
"Please... Vincent!" Dominic whimpered, dropping to his knees, tears of terror mixing with sweat on his face. "I'm your uncle! I'm your father's brother! Blood calls to blood! Mercy... please!"
Vincent stopped two feet away from him, his face an unreadable mask of ice.
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"You threatened a two-year-old child, Dominic," Vincent said quietly. "There is no blood between us anymore."
BANG.
