Chapter 11
The heavy mahogany doors slammed against their stops, breaking the fragile, golden peace of the dining hall. Silas, Kieran’s towering lead capo, stood in the threshold, his fair skin flushed with a dangerous mix of adrenaline and fury. He completely bypassed the usual protocols, his eyes locking onto his Boss while ignoring the newly promoted Annie entirely.
"Kieran," Silas breathed heavily. "We have a catastrophic breach at the southern shipping yards. A coordinated strike force wearing unmarked tactical gear just executed three of our logistics managers. They bypassed the outer perimeter."
Kieran’s jawline, framed by extremely short, neat stubble, locked into an expression of pure, unadulterated stone. His cold, perceptive eyes did not widen in panic; they narrowed into dark, lethal slits. He did not raise his voice. He simply turned his broad shoulders fully toward his lieutenant, his tailored charcoal suit emphasizing his deeply masculine, terrifying authority.
"Are we to assume... the Wells family... has chosen to accelerate their demise?" Kieran inquired softly, the measured pauses in his deep voice dropping the temperature in the room to absolute zero.
"It’s heavily armed, professional mercenaries, Boss," Silas confirmed rapidly. "They hit us hard and fast. They’re attempting to lock down the primary import containers."
Kieran slowly turned his head back to Annie. His expression softened infinitesimally, the ruthless warlord momentarily retreating to ensure the safety of his home.
"Will you proceed... immediately... to the secure wing?" Kieran asked, his gaze holding hers with an intense, proprietary focus.
Annie didn't hesitate. She recognized the sudden, explosive shift in the atmosphere. The man standing before her was about to unleash a tidal wave of violence, and she was not going to be a distraction. "I will not leave Flora's side."
May you like
Kieran offered a single, respectful nod. As Annie turned and hurried toward the residential corridors, Kieran walked past Silas, his artistic, tattooed hands adjusting his cuffs.
"Prepare the heavy assault teams," Kieran commanded smoothly, stepping out into the bright foyer. "We are going to the ports. I want every single mercenary bleeding out on the concrete before noon."
