Chapter 7 - RETAKING THE THRONE
Adrian knew the layout of his mansion better than the architects who built it. He had secret panels, hidden weapon caches, and blind spots meticulously mapped in his mind. Leaving Celeste securely locked inside the panic room hidden behind the library's false wall, he went hunting.
The rain outside intensified, masking the sounds of the struggle within. Adrian moved through the servant corridors like a wraith. He found two guards in the East Wing hallway. He didn't use his gun. A garrote wire dropped from the ceiling shadows took the first, a throwing knife to the throat silenced the second.
He moved to the basement, discovering the grim reality Marcus had boasted about. Two of Adrian’s most loyal guards lay dead near the breaker boxes. A cold fury settled into Adrian’s bones. This was no longer just business. This was a desecration of his home.
He cut the primary power. The mansion plunged into darkness, save for the emergency red floor lights.
Chaos erupted on the ground floor. Shouts echoed as Marcus's men realized they were no longer the hunters, but the hunted. They were blind, relying on tactical flashlights that only served as targets for Adrian.
From the mezzanine, Adrian picked off three more men with his suppressed H&K. The element of surprise and his absolute ruthlessness shattered the mercenaries' morale. They were fighting a ghost in the dark.
By the time Adrian reached the security room, only four men remained. They had barricaded themselves inside, watching the monitors frantically. Adrian didn't try to breach the heavy steel door. Instead, he went to the HVAC control unit in the adjacent hallway, bypassed the safety protocols, and flooded the security room with aerosolized tear gas from the riot-control reserves he kept for extreme emergencies.
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Within two minutes, the door burst open, men stumbling out, coughing, blinded, and desperate for air. Adrian executed them with cold, mechanical precision.
The house was quiet again. The king had retaken his castle.
