Chapter 3 - Bel Air Mansion Locks Down Under Heavy Guard
Heavy iron security gates at the end of the long palm-lined driveway slammed shut with a resounding metallic echo.
Half a dozen black SUVs blocked every exit route, their high-beam headlights cutting through the California fog.
Dozens of armed syndicate enforcers in sharp black suits poured out from the manicured gardens, securing the perimeter.
The elite guests inside the grand Bel Air ballroom pressed against the floor-to-ceiling glass doors in sheer terror.
“Nobody leaves this property until I give a direct order,” Marcus announced to the trapped crowd without raising his voice.
Jason’s knees wobbled against the stone pavers as he realized the full scale of the trap he had walked into.
“You can’t hold us here; my father is a federal judge downtown!” Jason yelled, desperately trying to project false authority.
Marcus took two slow steps forward, closing the distance between them with the silent grace of a hunting panther.
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“Your father retired last year, Jason, and even if he didn’t, he couldn’t save you from what’s coming,” Marcus stated flatly.
Chloe stood tall beside her father, her dark wet hair framing a face carved from pure, unyielding marble.
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