Chapter 7 - The Last Stand
Dominic Thorne had not built his empire by running.
As the hit squad moved through the foyer, Dominic opened fire. He was a master tactician, and this was his house. He dropped three men in the span of five seconds. But without his mobility, he was a static target.
A bullet grazed his shoulder. Another shattered the marble next to his head.
"Flank him!" a voice yelled. It was Marcus.
Dominic’s blood ran cold. Marcus. The man his father had raised alongside him.
"You're pathetic, Dom!" Marcus shouted from behind the cover of an overturned oak table. "A cripple playing house with a nurse! The city needs a real king!"
Dominic gritted his teeth against the pain in his shoulder. He checked his magazine. Four rounds left. He couldn't stay pinned down; they would eventually circle him and find the hidden door where Sarah and Leo were hiding.
For twenty years, Dominic had relied on his chair. He had relied on his guards.
Today, he relied on his legs.
With a guttural roar, Dominic pushed himself off the pillar. He didn't use a cane. He didn't use the wall. He took one agonizing, unassisted step forward. Then another.
He walked directly into the center of the hallway.
The sight of the paralyzed ghost of Boston walking through the shadows like a resurrected demon froze the hitmen in their tracks. It was only a second of hesitation, but it was all Dominic needed.
He raised his weapon and fired. Two more men dropped.
Marcus panicked, raising his assault rifle, but before he could pull the trigger, the front windows shattered. Julian and a dozen Thorne loyalists, heavily armed, poured into the estate, having been alerted by the dead-man switch Dominic triggered in his study.
A brutal firefight erupted, but it was over in less than a minute. The attackers were decimated.
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Julian walked up to Marcus, who was bleeding out on the floor, and put a bullet between his eyes without a word.
Julian turned to look for his boss, expecting to find him in his chair. Instead, he saw Dominic standing tall in the center of the carnage, bleeding, bruised, but entirely unbroken.
