569 "Where the Shadows Keep Their Secrets: Navigating the Web of Deceit Before the Final Midnight"

Marcus’s face hardened instantly. The smug, relaxed posture vanished, replaced by a dangerous, feral edge.

"Where are they?" Marcus demanded, pointing the gun he had just picked up directly at Dominic’s chest.

"They're kids, Marcus," Dominic said, maintaining his ground, his heart pounding with the hope that Grace had gotten them down into the old prohibition-era tunnels beneath the cellar. "They got scared when you started waving a gun around. What did you expect?"

"You think you can play me?" Marcus hissed. He lunged past Dominic toward the kitchen entrance, his eyes scanning the empty counters and the half-finished baking supplies. He spotted the heavy wooden door of the walk-in pantry slightly ajar.

Marcus kicked the door wide open.

It led only to shelves of canned goods and flour bags. No children.

"The service exit," Marcus cursed under his breath, realizing the architectural layout of the historic mansion better than Dominic gave him credit for. "The old tunnel network."

He spun back around to face Dominic, his finger tightening on the trigger. "You just signed their death warrant, Dom. If I can't control them, I don't need them."

Before Marcus could raise the barrel to fire, a heavy cast-iron skillet came flying out of the hallway shadows with terrifying speed, catching Marcus square across the temple with a sickening thud.

Marcus staggered sideways, dropping the detonator as he crashed hard against the marble pillar, blood instantly pooling from a nasty gash above his ear.

Out from the shadows stepped Grace Bennett, her face pale, her hands trembling around a second heavy pan, but her eyes burning with cold fury.

"Don't you ever touch those children," Grace whispered fiercely.

Dominic didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. He exploded across the room, closing the distance to Marcus before the traitor could recover his footing. Dominic drove his fist straight into Marcus’s jaw, a bone-rattling blow that knocked the security chief clean off his feet and sent him crashing unconscious onto the marble floor.