Chapter 110: Kill the Chicken to Warn the Monkeys

"Who are you?"

Solomon narrowed his eyes at the uninvited guest. The old man's face showed no panic at all — just a flash of irritation.

"Where's security? How did they let a lunatic in here?"

He pulled out a gold-trimmed phone from inside his jacket and smirked. "Young man, do you know where you are? This is the Silverman family's private estate. You broke in illegally and destroyed property in plain sight. I'm calling the FBI right now to have you arrested."

"That's right! This is the Silverman Mansion!"

"You're done for!"

"You crashed the Silverman Mansion's birthday banquet? Are you out of your mind?"

Dozens of the Silverman family's inner circle shot to their feet, pointing at Leo and hurling insults.

As far as they were concerned, this young man was just a reckless fool who had no idea what he was walking into.

Leo took a long drag of his cigar, blew out a cloud of smoke, and said calmly, "My name is Leo."

The temperature in the banquet hall seemed to drop to freezing.

Leo?

The Reaper — the one who had wiped out the Romano family and the Drake family, the one who made the entire New York underworld shake?

But what happened next caught everyone off guard.

Solomon's irritation didn't fade when he heard the name. Instead, a look of contempt crossed his face.

"Leo?"

Solomon slipped his phone back into his pocket and straightened his jacket collar without any rush. "So you're the arrogant little punk I've been hearing about."

He snapped his fingers.

Hidden doors around the banquet hall burst open.

Five heavily built men in black tactical vests poured out from every corner, each carrying an HK416 assault rifle, surrounding Leo completely.

Their eyes were sharp. Their movements were clean. Every one of them carried the unmistakable edge of men who had actually been to war.

"See that?"

Solomon smiled with satisfaction. "I paid a lot of money for these men. Every one of them is a retired Navy SEAL. Every one of them has fought in the Middle East. Every one of them has at least twenty kills."

"Leo, I'll give you credit — you took down a few families in New York. That's something."

"But those were just street thugs."

Solomon lifted his chin with arrogance. "Do you really think you can walk out of here alive with five real combat killers pointing guns at you?"

But Leo didn't even flinch at the barrels aimed at him.

He glanced at the bodyguards with a calm, almost amused look and said, "You think... they'll actually pull the trigger?"

"Kill him!"

Solomon was furious at being dismissed like that. He slashed his hand through the air. "Break every bone in his arms and legs! I want him on his knees begging!"

"Yes, sir!"

The lead bodyguard answered and advanced on Leo with his rifle raised, his men right behind him.

But when they were less than ten feet away, the lead bodyguard stopped dead.

He stared hard at Leo's face. His pupils dilated. He stood frozen, like he'd been struck by lightning.

Then, slowly, the rifle in his hands lowered.

He snapped to attention and gave a sharp, crisp salute.

"Former commander of SEAL Team Three, Lonnie Caldwell!"

"Reporting to my commanding officer!"

The words had barely landed before the other four bodyguards dropped their weapons and stood at attention, saluting in unison.

"SEAL Team Five, sniper — reporting to my commanding officer!"

"SEAL Team Seven, demolitions — reporting to my commanding officer!"

"SEAL Team..."

The reports rang out one after another, echoing through the banquet hall.

Everyone was stunned.

Solomon's eyes went wide. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"What — what are you doing?!"

Solomon screamed, his face red with rage. "I'm paying you! Not to salute him — to kill him! Open fire! Shoot him!"

Nobody moved.

Lonnie turned to look at Solomon, his eyes flat and cold. "Sir, I'm sorry."

"We're soldiers. Doesn't matter if we're retired. We don't raise a weapon against our commanding officer."

"And attack our CO? You could offer us a million dollars each and we still wouldn't do it."

Leo looked at these men — men he'd once fought alongside — and something like respect passed through his eyes.

"Good. I'm not going to make this hard for you. Go ahead and leave."

"But, sir..." Lonnie hesitated.

"That's an order."

Leo's voice was quiet, but there was no room to argue.

"Yes, sir!"

Lonnie snapped to attention, saluted, and led the men out of the banquet hall in quick order.

On the way out, he paused and said to Solomon, "Sir, good luck."

Solomon's face had gone gray.

He never imagined that the bodyguards he'd paid a fortune for would turn on him at the worst possible moment.

"You — you traitors! I'll sue every one of you!"

Solomon shook with rage, screaming at their backs as they walked away.

"You're worried about them right now?"

Leo walked slowly toward Solomon, each step landing like a weight on the old man's chest.

"Stay back — stay away from me..." Solomon stepped backward instinctively, and for the first time, real fear showed on his face.

At that moment, a middle-aged man standing quietly in the corner of the room eased a pistol from his waistband.

He held his breath, raised the gun, and aimed at the back of Leo's head.

His finger slowly curled around the trigger.

A shot rang out.

But it wasn't his.

A hole appeared between the middle-aged man's eyes. He dropped straight back and hit the floor, dead before he landed.

Screams tore through the banquet hall.

Leo didn't even turn around. He said quietly, "Is ambushing people from behind a Silverman family tradition?"

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers toward the windows.

In the next second, dozens of red laser dots appeared simultaneously across every floor-to-ceiling window in the hall.

Shadow Squad's snipers had already taken up positions at every high point around the estate. Behind every window, a rifle barrel waited in the dark.

"See that?"

Leo exhaled a slow breath of smoke, his voice cold. "This estate is surrounded. Not one of you is getting out."

Solomon went pale.

Then a man in a deep blue suit and gold-rimmed glasses stepped forward from the crowd.

"Stop right there!"

He walked straight up to Leo, pulled out a black credential wallet, and snapped it open. "I'm Gabriel Winter, Senior Operations Officer, CIA, Washington Division."

"Leo, you are facing multiple serious charges — unlawful entry, homicide, and more."

Gabriel pointed at Leo and barked, "I am ordering you to drop your weapons, put your hands behind your head, and submit to investigation. Right now."

"Refuse, and I have the authority to use lethal force."

He drew his sidearm and leveled it at Leo.

Leo didn't even look at him.

"Olivia."

"Here."

Olivia slipped through the doorway like a shadow.

Before Gabriel could react, his gun was gone. His arms were wrenched behind his back, and he was slammed face-first onto the floor.

"You — you just assaulted a federal officer!" Gabriel shouted into the cold marble, his voice cracking with panic. "That's a federal crime! You're all going to a military tribunal!"

Leo walked over and stood above him, looking down.

"The law?"

A thin, mocking smile crossed Leo's face.

"I think you've got the wrong idea about something."

"Right now... I'm a criminal."

"If I kill you, who's going to know it was me?"

He pressed his foot down on the back of Gabriel's head, grinding his face into the floor.

Gabriel let out a muffled cry of pain. His mouth filled with blood.

Solomon watched all of this, and whatever was left of his composure finally broke.

"What do you want?" Solomon's voice was shaking. "Leo, we can talk. Name your price. Money? I'll give you money. A billion dollars. How does that sound?"

"I don't need money."

Leo blew out a slow stream of smoke, his eyes empty. "I came here today to make an example. So everyone knows what happens when they come after me."

Solomon's whole body was trembling now.

"Wait — we can work something out!" He forced the words out through his fear. "I know things about the Rothschild family. Secrets. I'll tell you everything."

"I know how Nightfall is set up across Europe."

"Just let the Silverman family walk away. All of it is yours."

Leo shook his head.

"I'm not interested in deals."

He lifted his blood-stained shoe and positioned it over the back of Gabriel's skull.

"I just want to kill people."

"No!"

Solomon collapsed. He dropped to his knees on the floor. "Please! Spare us! We'll do anything — anything you want!"

Around the hall, the rest of the Silverman family fell to their knees as well. "Mr. Ashford, please!"

"We were wrong! We know we were wrong!"

"Please — just let us live..."

The begging rose from every direction.

Leo stood still and watched. His expression didn't change.

After a long moment, he exhaled and said simply, "You want to live?"

Solomon nodded frantically, like a man grabbing at a lifeline. "Yes. Yes, we do."

"Then tell me about the connection between the Rothschild family and the Valois family."

"I'll talk. I'll tell you everything."

Solomon grabbed at the opening with both hands and began to speak, his voice trembling...