Chapter 11 - The Trap in the Mountains and the Mother’s Rescue
Victor Vance realized he was cornered. In a final, desperate act of madness, he signaled his sleeper agents in the Adirondacks.
"Dante!" Roman whispered urgently, receiving an encrypted satellite alert. "The medical facility in the north! Vance’s rogue squad has surrounded the perimeter. They're trying to take Mara’s mother as collateral!"
Mara’s breath caught in her throat, her emerald composure cracking for a single, terrified second. "My mother..."
Dante grabbed Mara’s hands, his eyes burning with absolute certainty. "Look at me, Mara."
Mara looked into his granite eyes.
"No one touches your family," Dante swore, his voice a lethal promise. "We take the private jet now. By sunrise, Victor Vance’s bloodline will cease to exist."
Within thirty minutes, Dante’s private Gulfstream jet was cutting through the storm clouds toward upstate New York.
Inside the cabin, Mara traded her emerald gown for black tactical gear once more. She loaded her magazines with methodical, deadly focus.
"You don't have to go into the facility," Dante told her gently, strapping on his combat harness. "My men can handle the breach."
"She is my mother, Dante," Mara said, slamming a magazine into her Glock with a crisp clack. "And I am not hiding behind closed doors ever again."
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Dante looked at her, his heart swelling with fierce, unbound pride. He stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands, and kissed her with fierce passion.
"Then we end this together, my queen."
