Chapter 6 - The Siege of Mercer Island
Ethan didn't speak a single word.
He vaulted back into the hovering helicopter, grabbing the pilot by his flight vest. "Get us to the estate in three minutes or I will throw you out of this aircraft!"
The chopper tilted wildly, its engines roaring as it tore across Lake Washington at maximum velocity.
Back at the mansion, chaos had erupted.
Dominic Moretti had deployed twelve elite hitmen using silent electric speedboats, bypassing the main road guards by scaling the dark cliffs from the lake.
They had breached the glass conservatory on the western wing, killing three house guards before the automated steel blast shutters could seal the corridors.
Inside the master suite, Sophie held Amy tightly in her arms.
The room was pitch black except for the flashing red emergency lights along the ceiling. Outside the heavy mahogany doors, the muffled sound of automatic gunfire and dying groans echoed through the hallway.
Amy buried her face in her mother’s chest, crying silently, her tiny body shaking uncontrollably. "Mommy... I'm scared... is Mr. Ethan coming?"
"Yes, baby," Sophie wept, pressing her lips against her daughter’s forehead while leaning against the far wall of the bathroom. "Mr. Ethan promised... he promised he wouldn't let anyone hurt us..."
BOOM!
A explosive breaching charge blew the lock off the master bedroom door.
The heavy wood splintered inward, and three armed men in dark tactical gear stepped into the room, their rifle lights sweeping across the furniture.
Leading them was Dominic Moretti himself—a heavy-set, brutal man in his late fifties with a scarred face and cold, reptilian eyes.
"Sophie!" Dominic called out, his boots crunching on the shattered wood near the doorway. "Come out, little girl! Let's save us all some time! I know you're in here!"
Sophie pulled a heavy brass candlestick from the vanity table, holding it with trembling hands as she stepped out of the bathroom, shielding Amy behind her skirt.
"Get away from us!" Sophie screamed, her voice shaking with terrified defiance. "Ethan will kill you for this!"
Dominic laughed—a loud, barking sound that filled the dark room. "Ethan Cole is ten miles away playing soldier on Pier 54! By the time he gets back, you and your brat will be on a boat to Chicago, and I’ll have the key to my money!"
Dominic stepped forward, reaching out a massive, gloved hand to grab Sophie by her hair.
THUD!
The floor-to-ceiling glass wall of the balcony exploded inward in a shower of ten thousand glittering shards.
Through the storm of glass came Ethan Cole.
He landed on the carpet like a shadow, turning in mid-air, a heavy tactical shotgun roaring in his hands.
BLAM!
The first hitman was thrown backward out of the room, his chest caved in.
BLAM!
The second hitman collapsed before he could even raise his rifle.
Dominic spun around in absolute terror, pulling his sidearm, but Ethan was already upon him.
Ethan caught Dominic’s wrist in a vise-like grip, twisting it backward until the bone snapped with a sickening CRACK. Dominic screamed in agony, dropping his pistol onto the carpet.
Ethan didn't stop. He grabbed Dominic by the throat, lifting the two-hundred-pound mobster off his feet with superhuman strength, smashing his back against the solid marble fireplace mantle.
"You came into my home," Ethan whispered, his voice vibrating with a terrifying, unholy dark energy. "You threatened my family."
"Ethan... please..." Dominic choked out, his eyes bulging as his airway closed. "It was just business... take the crypto... take the money—"
"I don't care about the money," Ethan growled.
With a swift, brutal strike of his combat knife, Ethan ended Dominic Moretti’s reign forever.
The heavy body fell to the floor with a soft thud.
The room went completely silent, save for the sound of the rain pouring through the shattered balcony window.
Ethan stood amid the blood and glass, his chest heaving, his face covered in dark smudges. He slowly turned his head toward the bathroom door.
Sophie stood there, holding Amy, staring at him in absolute, breathless awe.
Ethan dropped his weapon. He slowly walked over to them, stepping carefully around the debris. He stopped two feet away, looking down at the shivering child.
He dropped to both knees on the wet carpet.
"Amy," Ethan whispered gently, reaching out his hands. "Are you hurt?"
Amy looked at the blood on his hands, then looked into his dark, tired eyes.
She didn't flinch. She didn't run.
She stepped out from behind her mother, walked right up to the feared mafia CEO, and wrapped her small arms tightly around his neck.
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"I knew you'd come, Mr. Ethan," Amy whispered softly into his shoulder. "You promised."
Ethan closed his eyes, his powerful arms wrapping around the small girl, pulling her close against his heart. Tears—the first tears he had shed in thirty years—burned behind his eyelids.
