Chapter 10 - The Siege of Westchester
The heavy oak double doors of the command center rattled as the first wave of concussive blasts echoed from the upper levels of the manor. Shockwaves rumbled through the floorboards, sending dust filtering down from the exposed timber rafters.
“They’ve breached the outer portico!” Enzo barked into his tactical headset, his hand drawing his sidearm as he sprinted toward the secure stairwell. “All tactical units, hold the second-floor choke points! Do not let them reach the east wing!”
Dominic didn't hesitate. He pulled a secondary Glock 19 from his shoulder holster, checked the magazine with practiced efficiency, and handed it to Enzo before reaching into his desk drawer to pull out a heavy Sig Sauer P320. He clicked off the safety and turned toward me.
“Dominic, no,” I gasped, clutching his arm with my good hand. “You can’t stay here to fight them alone. If they breach this room—"
“They won't breach this room,” Dominic interrupted, his voice fiercely calm as he pressed a small, encrypted key fob into my palm. “This is the emergency panic suite. The walls are reinforced with two inches of ballistic steel, and the ventilation system operates on an independent oxygen reserve. Once I lock this door from the outside, nothing short of C4 explosives can get through.”
“I’m not leaving you out there!” I cried, tears spilling over my cheeks. “I just got my brother back! I am not losing you tonight!”
Dominic leaned down, pressing a fierce, lingering kiss to my forehead.
“You aren't losing me, Elena,” he whispered, using my real name for the first time with a look of absolute, unshakeable devotion. “I spent twenty-four years looking for my little sister. I am not about to let some hired thugs take her away from me now. Isabella, take care of her.”
Before I could grab his shirt, Dominic stepped backward out the door, slammed the heavy steel security barrier shut, and threw the manual deadbolts into place with a resounding, metallic crash.
The heavy thud of his boots echoed through the reinforced door as he turned to face the oncoming storm in the hallway above.
Inside the panic room, the digital monitors flickered back to life on auxiliary battery power. Through the wide-angle hallway cameras, we watched the brutal, chaotic firefight unfold. Private security guards in tactical gear held the stairwell against waves of armed intruders wearing black balaclavas and tactical vests. Gunshots cracked through the audio feed like rolling thunder, smoke billowing across the marble corridors.
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Through it all, Dominic moved with cold, terrifying precision, flanked by Enzo and his elite response team, pushing the enemy back toward the grand foyer.
I clutched the gold wedding ring on my finger, whispering a silent prayer into the dim, pulsing red light of the bunker, knowing that whatever happened when the smoke cleared, the ghosts of our past had finally been laid to rest.
