Chapter 31 - The Trap Springs Again
The two mercenaries froze, whirling around with their flashlights sweeping wildly across the room. Standing near the tall mirror—completely uncovered and gleaming under the desk lamp—was Karen Ashby. She sat upright in her wooden chair, her silver sewing shears resting casually on the cutting table before her, her scarred face illuminated sharply by the light.
"What the—? Grab her!" one enforcer shouted, lunging forward with the canister.
Before he could take a single step, the heavy oak basement door at the top of the stairs banged wide open. A beam of blinding light flooded the stairwell, followed by the heavy, measured clack of leather-soled shoes descending the wooden steps.
Four burly men in tailored charcoal suits—Ambrose Calvano’s elite security detail—stepped into the basement, completely blocking all exits. Behind them stood Ambrose himself, his silver hair neatly combed, his hands resting calmly inside his coat pockets.
The two arsonists dropped their canisters, realizing in a single horrifying second that they had walked directly into an executioner's trap.
Upstairs, waiting in the black sedan around the corner, Alistair Vance checked his watch impatiently. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Suddenly, the passenger door of his car was pulled open.
Before Alistair could react, two of Ambrose’s syndicate guards yanked him violently out of the vehicle, slamming him against the side of the car and slapping heavy steel zip-ties around his wrists.
May you like
"What is the meaning of this?!" Alistair gasped, struggling vainly against his captors. "Do you know who I am? I am Alistair Vance!"
"We know exactly who you are, Alistair," Ambrose’s deep, cold voice echoed from the shadows as he walked up to the car. "And in Marrow Hill, corporate thugs who hire arsonists don't get boardroom settlements. They get exposed."
