The third lock struck home with a metallic crash that echoed through the estate.
Kieran’s face changed.
Until that moment, he had looked irritated, offended, almost amused by the idea that a maid could threaten his position.
Now the color drained from his cheeks.
His right shoulder stopped moving behind the SUV door.
Killian saw it in the mirror.
So did Norah.
A voice crackled through the estate intercom.
One of the guards in the security room confirmed that every exterior gate had been closed.
The armored panels built into the side entrances were descending.
No vehicle could leave the property without Killian’s authorization.
Kieran looked toward the roof.
It was a mistake.
Both guards on the front steps followed his gaze.
Killian stepped from behind the pillar just far enough to be heard, but not far enough to offer the figure above a clear shot.
“Hands on the hood,” he said.
Kieran gave a strained laugh.
“Boss, you’re embarrassing yourself.”
“Both hands.”
“You’re taking orders from a servant.”
Killian’s expression did not change.
“I’m giving you an order.”
The driver’s left hand settled on the black hood.
His right remained concealed.
Norah stood behind the pillar, watching the foyer mirror.
She could see Kieran’s reflection, the guards near the steps, and a thin slice of the roof beyond the courtyard.
The mirror distorted distance slightly, but it did not distort intent.
Kieran’s elbow moved.
“Now,” Norah said.
The nearest guard lunged before the driver could clear the weapon from his waistband.
Kieran twisted, striking the SUV door with his shoulder.
The suppressed pistol fell onto the gravel.
A second guard kicked it away while the first forced Kieran’s arms against the hood.
At the same instant, a dull impact cracked against the stone above the side entrance.
Dust fell from the archway.
The shot had missed Killian by several feet because he had never stepped into the open.
The guards dragged Kieran to the ground.
“North roof,” Norah said.
“Behind the chimney.”
Killian lifted his phone.
“Take the roof team alive.”
Footsteps thundered through the upper corridor.
Somewhere above them, a door burst open.
There was a brief scrape of movement across slate, followed by shouted commands and the heavy clatter of a rifle being dropped.
Then silence.
Killian remained in the master-suite doorway.
His tie was perfectly straight.
Only the hard pulse in his neck revealed how close he had come to dying.
Kieran was brought inside with his wrists secured behind him.
The servants had gathered along the foyer walls.
Men who had spent years pretending not to hear Killian’s threats now stared openly at the driver who had carried him through ambushes, funerals, negotiations, and wars.
Kieran’s gaze found Norah.
“You,” he said.
Norah did not step back.
Killian descended the stairs slowly.
“What about her?”
