Chapter 5 - The First DominoBy 1730 hours, the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon, casting long, golden shadows across the pristine lawns of the Mediterranean estate.
Inside, the house was a flurry of high-society preparation. Caterers in crisp white jackets hurried between the commercial-grade kitchen and the formal dining room, arranging silver platters of caviar, artisan cheeses, and imported wine. The crystal chandelier glittered brilliantly, illuminating the smiling faces of Maribel and Grant as they welcomed their first wave of elite corporate guests.
Grant stood near the foyer, wearing his finest tuxedo, looking every bit the triumphant master of the manor. My father sat in a wingback chair by the fireplace, accepting congratulations from retired business associates who praised his “magnificent family legacy.”
None of them noticed the three unmarked black SUVs turning off the coastal highway and rolling quietly up the long, paved driveway.
None of them saw the federal marshals step out into the crisp evening air, their dark jackets bearing crisp gold lettering, accompanied by Marcus Vance and a pair of county bailiffs.
I sat in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, resting my arms on the window ledge, watching the warm light spill out through the arched windows of the villa.
The heavy oak front doors—the exact doors my father had slammed in my face four days ago—were unlocked, waiting for guests to arrive.
“Ready, Commander?” Marcus asked from the driver’s seat, glancing over at me.
May you like
I reached up, adjusting the collar of my service uniform, and let out a long, steady breath.
“Let’s open the doors,” I said.
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