Chapter 24 - THE BREACH AT THE KITCHEN DOOR
"Marco!" Lily gasped, spinning away from the desk.
Before she could take two steps toward the hallway, a massive crash echoed from the main dining room—the sound of shattering safety glass and splintering mahogany. The security alarm didn't go off; the wires had been cleanly severed from the exterior junction box.
Vince didn't flinch. He didn't reach for a weapon. He simply reached into his trench coat pocket and pulled out a heavy, brass-handled chef’s knife—the exact twin of the one resting in the magnetic strip above the kitchen prep line.
"Stay behind the desk, Lily," Vince commanded, his voice carrying the absolute authority of a man who had survived three decades of Brooklyn gang wars. "They’re not here for the money in the register. They’re here for the safe behind the painting."
Footsteps—multiple pairs, fast and heavy—stomped across the dining room carpet, scattering chairs and smashing wine glasses underfoot. Flashlights cut bright, jagged beams of white light through the half-open office door, sweeping across the walls like searchlights.
"Clear the back!" a harsh, unfamiliar voice barked from the dining room. "Get the girl and secure the ledger. If the old man is here, he doesn't leave the building."
Lily’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She looked around the small office, her eyes locking onto the heavy iron floor safe hidden behind the framed portrait of her great-grandmother. Victoria hadn't just sent thugs; she had sent professionals. People who knew about the vault beneath the floorboards.
"They know about the second foundation," Lily whispered, her hand dropping to the heavy brass paperweight on her desk—her only improvised weapon.
"They know *about* it," Vince replied coldly, a dangerous, razor-thin smile touching the corners of his mouth. "They just don't know that the floor safe is a decoy."
The door to the office exploded inward as a heavy shoulder smashed against the wood, sending it swinging wide against the wall. A towering man in a black tactical jacket stepped into the room, holding a suppressed pistol pointed straight at Vince’s chest.
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Behind him loomed a second figure, broad and menacing, holding a heavy steel crowbar.
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