Infiltrating the mansion

Chapter 2

6 Months Later

The wait was over. Liam had burned through every last dime he had, pouring it all into his relentless plan for revenge. He sold off everything—TV, furniture, even his bed—just to stockpile enough weapons to take down the man who destroyed his life.

Victor Caruso.

Liam wasn't stupid. Charging into a mafia boss's mansion without a plan was suicide. For months, he put his body through hell—brutal martial arts training, endurance drills, weapons handling. He needed to be strong enough to break bones and fast enough to dodge bullets. Now, he was ready. Confident. Deadly.

Outside his apartment, his crew was waiting. Chris, David, and Tristan—each of them had their own score to settle with Victor. They weren't friends. They were survivors with a common enemy.

Chris, the hacker, would shut down the mansion's security systems. David would create chaos at the front gate, drawing the guards out. While they scrambled, Liam would slip in, armed to the teeth, and kill Victor.

Simple plan. But if Victor got wind of it, they'd all be dead before they made it to the front door.

They knew the risks. They didn't care.

Liam strapped on his gear, checking every weapon like a machine. Knives, loaded pistols, extra mags. Then his eyes drifted to the photo on the nightstand. His hand tightened around the frame as he lifted it.

Amelia and Danny.

His kids. Their smiles froze in time.

His jaw clenched, muscles in his neck tightening like steel cables.

"I swear to you… Amelia, Danny… I'll make him pay." His voice was low, cold.

He'd made that promise six months ago, but the pain was as fresh as the day it happened. Victor took everything from him. And Liam was ready to take everything from Victor—even if it cost him his own life.

A knock at the door.

"Liam, it's past 1 a.m. We need to move," David's voice was steady but urgent.

Midnight was the perfect window. They had to be done before sunrise.

Liam set the photo down, grabbed his combat gloves, and headed out.

"Where's Chris and Tristan?" he asked, voice firm.

"Already in the van. Chris scanned Victor's cameras—seventeen guards outside," David reported.

"And inside?"

"Only two cams made it in. We counted four guards, but who knows if more are hiding."

Liam nodded, slipping on his gloves. "Four's nothing. Just keep those seventeen outside busy. Let's move."

They moved like shadows, dressed in black from head to toe. Combat boots, tactical vests, sidearms. Chris sat behind the wheel, focused. Tristan wasn't much of a fighter, but tonight, he didn't need to be. His job was to make noise.

The van rumbled to life, rolling toward Victor's mansion on the outskirts of town. Inside, tension thickened like smoke.

"I don't know, man," Tristan muttered, staring at the floor. "I've got a bad feeling. Maybe we should just drop this and forget about it."

David's fist cracked against the back of Tristan's head.

"Ow! What the hell, man?!" Tristan snapped, rubbing his head.

"You want to back out now? Go ahead. I've always known you to be a coward, Just know if anyone here betrays us, we're all dead," David growled.

Tristan's face twisted in anger. "Watch your mouth. You forget how you got into debt in the first place?"

David's fists balled up, ready to strike.

"Enough," Liam cut in, voice like a blade. Arms crossed, eyes shut, completely composed. "Save it for Victor's guards. You can kill each other after we survive this."

Tristan scoffed. "How are you so calm? We might not make it out alive!" Sweat dripped down his face. His hands shook until he forced them still.

Liam's eyes opened, cold and sharp. "If I die tonight, Victor's coming with me."

Silence.

Chris's voice broke it. "We're here."

The van slowed to a stop, hidden in the woods near Victor's mansion. They filed out, boots crunching dry leaves. Chris flipped open his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"The cameras… wait. There's five guards inside now. Someone new or we miscounted."

Liam's face didn't flinch. "Five, ten, doesn't matter. I'm not going in there to make friends.

Liam checked his gear one last time, tightening the strap on his vest and securing the pistol in his holster. Every movement was deliberate, precise.

"Chris, kill the security feeds," Liam ordered.

Chris's fingers flew over the laptop keyboard. "Give me ten seconds... and... done. Cameras are down. Alarms too."

Liam turned to David and Tristan. "You two know what to do. Loud and messy. Pull as many guards out as you can."

David cracked his knuckles. "Yeah, yeah. Let's wake the whole damn place up."

Tristan hesitated for a second but quickly masked it. "Let's get this over with."

Liam gave them a hard nod. "Stick to the plan. I'll handle the rest."

David and Tristan slipped off into the darkness, circling toward the mansion's front gate.

Liam and Chris moved through the woods, sticking to the shadows.

David reached the perimeter fence, pulling out a homemade Molotov cocktail from his bag. He lit the rag, eyes narrowing.

"Ready?" he muttered.

Tristan swallowed hard. "Yeah, sure."

David launched the bottle over the fence. It shattered against a parked car, exploding into flames.

"Hey! What the hell?!" one of the guards shouted.

Before they could react, David pulled out a smoke grenade and yanked the pin. He hurled it over, and thick smoke began to pour out, swallowing the area in a choking cloud.

"Move, move!" David barked, sprinting toward the next car. He smashed a window with his elbow, hotwiring the vehicle in seconds.

The engine roared to life.

"Get in!"

Tristan clambered into the passenger seat, panic in his eyes.

David floored the gas, ramming the car straight into the front gate with a deafening crash.

"Intruders! Get the hell out here!" guards screamed.

Floodlights snapped on, cutting through the night. Guards swarmed the entrance, rifles ready.

"COME ON, YOU BASTARDS!" David roared, climbing out and unloading rounds into the air. Tristan followed, lobbing flashbangs over the fence.

The entire front of the mansion erupted into chaos.

Liam moved like a shadow through the side entrance, silenced pistol in hand.

Two guards rounded the corner.

Pop! Pop!

Both dropped before they even knew he was there.

Liam didn't stop. He pressed forward, checking corners, moving fast.

Inside, the mansion was a maze of luxury and security.

Liam crept down a marble hallway, hearing muffled shouts and footsteps scrambling toward the front entrance.

Good. Keep running toward the noise.

He approached a door leading to Victor's private quarters.

Locked.

Liam placed a small charge near the handle and stepped back.

Click—BOOM!

The door burst open.

Inside, two guards scrambled to draw their weapons.

Liam didn't hesitate. He fired twice, each shot clean and lethal.

Blood splattered across the expensive wallpaper.

He moved deeper in.

Victor had to be close.

Outside, David ducked behind a stone fountain as bullets tore through the air.

"WE CAN'T KEEP THIS UP MUCH LONGER!" Tristan yelled, reloading his pistol with shaking hands.

David grinned. "We don't have to. Liam's already inside."

Tristan peeked over the edge. "Uh, yeah, well, tell that to the fifty guys trying to kill us!"

David pulled a pin on another grenade. "Let's make it harder for them, huh?"

He tossed it under a parked SUV.

BOOM!

The explosion flipped the vehicle onto two guards, setting off car alarms across the estate.

Chaos. Total chaos.

Inside, Liam pushed forward.

He was getting close.

Too close.

Click.

Cold steel pressed against the back of his skull.

"Drop it," a deep voice growled.

Liam's grip on his pistol tightened.

"Nice try," the voice sneered. "But you're done. Now, drop the gun before I paint the wall with your brains."

Liam's mind raced.

This wasn't in the plan.

Not at all.

His finger inched toward the trigger, calculating the odds.

But he was out of time.

"Last chance. Surrender or die."