Chapter 10 - The Standoff
"Marcus," I choked out, trying to raise the empty shotgun, but the pain in my chest paralyzed my arms. "It’s over. I have the contract with Rossi. Dad will hunt you to the ends of the earth."
Marcus chuckled, a low, wet sound that sent chills down my spine. "Your father isn't coming, Leo. Did you really think he dismissed your call this afternoon because he was busy?"
Marcus pulled a burner phone from his pocket and tossed it onto the floor between us.
"Listen to the voicemail, boy."
With trembling fingers, Eleanor picked up the phone and pressed play on the speaker.
My father’s cold, unmistakable voice resonated through the dark room: *"Marcus. If my son cannot survive an ambush by street trash, he is not fit to inherit the Cavanaugh name. Clean up the mess. Do what needs to be done. Make sure Julian and Toby are kept in the countryside until the Rossi merger is finalized."*
The room spun. My chest felt hollow, like a gaping void where my heart used to be.
My father hadn't just ignored me. He had authorized Marcus to eliminate me as a weak link.
"You see, Leo," Marcus said, raising the Beretta, pointing it directly at the bridge of my nose. "In this business, sons are cheap. Dynasties are built on deals. Your father chose the Rossi empire over a broken seventeen-year-old who couldn't even win an alley brawl."
Eleanor rose slowly to her feet. She stepped directly in front of the barrel, shielding my body with her own.
"Get out of the way, old woman," Marcus hissed, his finger tightening on the trigger. "You're a hired hand. You don't have to die for this family."
"You're wrong, Marcus," Eleanor said, her voice completely calm, devoid of fear. "I don't work for Arthur Cavanaugh. And I sure as hell don't care about his empire. But I swore to protect these boys when their own father abandoned them."
"Then die with him," Marcus snarled.
He fired.
The muffled *crack* of the silenced gunshot punched through the room. Eleanor gasped, her body jerking backward as the bullet ripped through her left shoulder. Blood bloomed instantly across her wool sweater.
She collapsed against me, her weight dragging us both to the floor.
"Eleanor!" I screamed, pressing my hands against the hot, gushing wound in her shoulder. "Eleanor, look at me!"
"I'm... I'm alright, Leo," she wheezed through gritted teeth, her face pale as ash. "Stay down..."
Marcus took two slow steps forward, standing over us, bringing the gun down to point directly into my face. "Goodbye, Cavanaugh."
*BOOM.*
The heavy front double doors of the mansion were blown completely off their hinges by an explosive breaching charge.
The shockwave threw Marcus forward onto the marble floor. Splinters of wood and glass rained across the grand hall as thick white smoke flooded the foyer.
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Through the smoke, a figure walked in. Tall, clad in an immaculate black cashmere overcoat, flanked by eight men in full tactical gear carrying combat rifles.
It was Arthur Cavanaugh.
