Chapter 4 - The Lion's Den
The Sterling Estate was a sprawling, gothic mansion surrounded by twenty-foot iron gates, manicured snowscapes, and a private security force equipped with military-grade surveillance.
At 10:30 PM, Cade’s black armored sedan pulled up to the security checkpoint at the front gates. The heavily armed guard stepped out of his booth, tapping on the driver's side window.
Cade rolled down the rear window, staring at the guard with an expression of cold, terrifying authority. "Tell Arthur that Cade Whitlock is at his gate. Tell him if he doesn't open it in ten seconds, I will buy his primary lender by midnight and call in his mortgage before breakfast."
The guard blinked, recognized the billionaire titan immediately, and scrambled back to his phone. Within thirty seconds, the massive iron gates creaked open.
The grand driveway led to a majestic marble foyer where Arthur Sterling waited. Sterling was sixty-eight years old, silver-haired, impeccably tailored, and possessed the arrogant air of a man who believed the law was merely a suggestion for the poor.
"Cade," Sterling smiled smoothly, holding out a glass of scotch as Cade stepped into the warm, chandelier-lit hall. "To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of a late-night visit from my favorite rival?"
Cade didn't take the glass. He didn't take off his coat. He walked straight up to Sterling, stopping less than two feet away, towering over the older man.
"Where is Sarah Cross, Arthur?" Cade asked, his voice a low, lethal hum that made the chandelier crystal tremble slightly overhead.
Sterling’s smooth smile faltered for a fraction of a millisecond before locking back into place. "Who? I'm afraid I don't keep track of the thousands of low-level workers in this city, Cade. You've come to the wrong house."
"Don't play games with me, Arthur," Cade said, leaning down slightly. "Her cell phone pinged off your estate's private cell tower at 11:42 PM last Thursday. She came here for a job interview. A job interview you used as a trap because she knew about your offshore shell accounts in Panama."
Sterling’s eyes darkened, the polished billionaire mask slipping away to reveal the ruthless tyrant underneath. He set his scotch glass down on a marble side table with a sharp clink.
"You are trespassing in my home, Whitlock," Sterling hissed softly. "Making wild accusations about a nobody from the harbor district. Even if this woman was here, what is she to you? She's a nobody. A bug under the wheel of progress."
"She has two children, Arthur," Cade said, his voice dropping into an icy register that terrified even Sterling’s personal guards standing in the corners. "A ten-year-old girl named Juny who had to steal a three-dollar loaf of bread tonight just so her six-year-old brother wouldn't go to sleep crying from hunger."
Sterling let out a cruel, dismissive laugh. "Ah. The tragic charity case. Has the great Cade Whitlock gone soft? Taking up arms for street rats?"
Cade grabbed Sterling by his silk lapels, yanking the older man forward until their faces were inches apart. The security guards instantly drew their sidearms, but Cade didn't even look at them.
"Listen to me very carefully, Arthur," Cade snarled, his eyes burning with a terrifying fire. "If Sarah Cross is hurt—if so much as a single hair on her head has been harmed—I will not just destroy your company. I will dismantle your family's legacy brick by brick. I will buy your debts, I will expose your offshore accounts, and I will ensure you spend the rest of your miserable life in a federal penitentiary."
May you like
Cade shoved Sterling backward, letting the older man stumble against the marble table.
"You have twenty-four hours to produce her alive," Cade said, turning on his heel and walking toward the grand doors. "Tick-tock, Arthur."
