Chapter 11 - The Shadow at the Gates
Two weeks passed, bringing an uneasy peace to the Caruso estate. Under top-tier medical care and proper nutrition, Grace began to glow with health. She spent long afternoons in the manor’s sunroom with Vincent, listening to stories about her mother’s laughter, her paintings, and the summer they had fallen in love.
A tender bond had begun to form between father and daughter—a bond forged from shared grief and newfound devotion.
Late on a rainy Tuesday night, lightning cracked across the dark sky above Chestnut Hill.
Grace woke with a sharp gasp. A sudden, intense contraction seized her abdomen. She reached for the bedside call button, breathing heavily as a second cramp hit her with alarming force.
Her water had broken. The baby was coming nearly four weeks early.
“Vincent!” Grace cried out, pressing the emergency chime.
Within seconds, the estate’s medical team and Vincent rushed into her bedroom. “Get the private ambulance ready!” Vincent barked, his face pale with concern as he gripped Grace’s hand. “We’re moving to Hawthorne right now!”
Suddenly, the estate’s power cut out completely. Red emergency backup lights flickered to life, bathing the walls in blood-red hues.
Outside, the shrill wail of perimeter alarm sirens shrieked into the storm.
Marco kicked open the bedroom door, an assault rifle gripped in his tactical vest. His face was covered in cold sweat.
“Boss, we have a catastrophic breach at the outer gates!” Marco yelled over the howling sirens. “It’s not the Morettis. Dominic turned off the security grid from the control bunker! An armed convoy just rammed through the south courtyard!”
Grace gasped in agony as another violent contraction tore through her body.
At that exact second, Vincent’s encrypted satellite phone rang in his pocket. He answered it, putting it on speaker as he shielded Grace with his own body.
A chilling, distorted voice crackled through the speaker, accompanied by Dominic’s mocking laughter in the background.
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“Did you really think Rebecca died of pneumonia, Vincent?” the voice whispered coldly. “And did you really think your little janitor was the only one Rebecca brought into this world before we locked her away?”
Vincent’s blood ran cold. Grace looked up at him in sheer terror as the first rounds of heavy gunfire shattered the windows of the lower floor.
