Chapter 3: The Ghost Protocol
Planning an infiltration of the Thorne estate wasn't like a mission in the desert. There were cameras, laser grids, and private security contractors who were ex-military themselves. But Liam had an ace up his sleeve: his old squad.
Within forty-eight hours, three of his former teammates had converged on the cabin. They weren't there for glory; they were there for retribution.
"We need a distraction," Marcus, the squad’s tech genius, noted, tapping away at a laptop that looked like a military-grade command center. "The Thorne estate is a fortress. But Eleanor’s vanity is her weakness. She’s announcing the 'Legacy Endowment' tonight. She’s closing your sister's trust fund legally, effectively stealing the remaining twenty million."
"She’s making it official," Liam realized. "She’s erasing Dany for good."
They spent the next day prepping. Dany was hesitant, terrified of being seen, but she was stronger than anyone knew. She had spent a decade fighting to survive; she wouldn't be a victim anymore.
"I have the codes," Dany said, sliding a USB drive across the table. "She made me transcribe documents for years. She thought I was just a scribe, but I was memorizing her financial structure. The access key is in the safe behind the painting of the weeping willow."
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Liam looked at his sister. She was bruised, scarred, and limping, but her eyes held a fire that reminded him of their mother. "Tonight," he said, "we take it all back."
They didn't dress for a gala. They dressed for a raid. Dark tactical gear, comms, and the cold, calculated precision of men who had saved countries. This was personal.
