Chapter 6 - The Midnight BreachFlynn sent Lily up to her room in the guest house before returning to the main mansion’s library.
Margot was waiting for him, pacing in front of the marble fireplace.
“Green letters on an encrypted terminal?” Margot confronted him the moment he closed the door. “Radios? Men in black watching this estate? What is going on, Flynn? Are you involved in something illegal?”
Flynn walked over to the decanter on the side table and poured himself a glass of water.
“I told you I served in the military, Margot.”
“Standard contractors don't have military-grade encrypted terminals in their garages!” Margot raised her voice, stepping into his space. “My family is in the middle of a delicate corporate merger. If you are bringing criminal elements or government investigations to my doorstep—”
“The only thing coming to your doorstep, Margot,” Flynn said coldly, turning to face her, “is Victor Crestwood’s hit squad.”
The room went dead silent.
“What?” Margot blinked.
Flynn pulled a thin, military-grade tablet from his jacket pocket and laid it on the table. The screen displayed real-time thermal satellite tracking of the perimeter around the Callaway estate. Four red dots were moving through the treeline near the south gate.
“Crestwood realized he couldn't buy off your board,” Flynn explained, his voice turning icy and tactical. “So he hired a private security team from an offshore firm. Their objective isn't to negotiate. They’re coming to secure your private digital keys and force a forced transfer of the Mercer shares.”
Margot stared at the screen, her blood running cold. “This... this is insane. We have security guards at the gate!”
“Your gate guards were compromised twenty minutes ago,” Flynn said flatly. “They took a payoff.”
Before Margot could scream or run for the phone, the lights in the mansion abruptly went out, plunging the grand room into pitch darkness.
Outside, the faint sound of glass shattering echoed from the conservatory downstairs.
Margot gasped, stumbling backward in the dark.
Instantly, strong, warm arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against a broad chest. Flynn’s scent surrounded her, instantly cutting through her panic.
“Stay quiet,” Flynn’s voice whispered right against her ear, calm and steady as rock. “Don't leave my side.”
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From beneath his jacket, Flynn pulled out a night-vision monocular and lowered it over his left eye. In his right hand, a suppressed semi-automatic pistol appeared as if from thin air.
Margot held her breath, clinging to the back of Flynn’s shirt. In that moment of absolute danger, the contractor she had despised became the only anchor keeping her tethered to reality.
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