Chapter 7 - The Desperate Strike
Driven into a corner, Julian didn't go quietly.
Three nights later, as a heavy thunderstorm raged over the hills, the power to Luka’s estate suddenly cut out. The backup generators hummed to life instantly, but the perimeter alarm began to blare.
"Stay in the panic room with Maya," Luka commanded, pulling a sleek dark handgun from his desk and checking the chamber with practiced, lethal speed.
"Luka, no! Don't go out there alone!" I cried, grabbing his arm.
Luka looked down at my hand resting against his black jacket, then met my eyes in the red emergency light of the hallway. "This house is an impenetrable fortress, Elena. But more importantly, I have been waiting ten years to deliver justice for your father. Stay safe. I'll be back in five minutes."
Through the security monitors inside the reinforced panic room, I watched the dramatic confrontation unfold in the grand foyer downstairs.
Julian Vance had broken through the side French doors, accompanied by four hired mercenaries armed with heavy batons and stun weapons. Julian looked completely unhinged—his suit dirty, his hair messy, clutching a heavy iron crowbar.
"Moretti!" Julian screamed into the dark foyer. "Give me the drive! Give me the baby! She's my property! My entire life is on that drive!"
Luka stepped out of the shadow of the grand curved staircase. He moved like a ghost, completely silent, completely calm.
"She is not property, Julian," Luka’s voice echoed off the high marble ceiling. "She is a human being. And you are a bug under my boot."
The four mercenaries lunged at Luka simultaneously.
May you like
What followed was a display of terrifying, breathtaking efficiency. Luka didn't fire his weapon. He moved with brutal military precision—disarming the first man with a single strike, throwing the second over the marble banister, and dropping the remaining two in less than thirty seconds.
Julian stumbled backward in sheer horror, dropping his crowbar onto the floor with a loud clang.
