Chapter 233
Wesley
Twenty minutes later, we were parked half a block from the estate, the engine ticking as it cooled in the night air. I stared through the windshield at the iron gates, the security booth lit up like a damn lighthouse, guards visible even from here. Beyond them, the sprawling grounds stretched out into darkness, dotted with the faint glow of motion sensors and infrared beams crisscrossing the lawn like a spider's web.
"Jesus," Miles muttered from the passenger seat, leaning forward to get a better look. "This is insane. We'd need at least an hour just to map out the patrol patterns, and that's assuming we don't trip a sensor in the process."
Dante, crammed into the back with Carlo and Jax, let out a low whistle. "Boss, I know you said this was important, but there's no way we're sneaking past all that. Not tonight, anyway. We need to come back with a plan, maybe bring more—"
"We're not sneaking," I interrupted.
Four pairs of eyes swiveled toward me.
"What?" Miles said flatly.
I pulled the keys from the ignition and pocketed them, already opening the door. "I didn't say we're going in guns blazing, either. Relax. I know a way in that doesn't involve playing hopscotch with laser grids."
Carlo leaned forward, suspicious. "What kind of way?"
"The kind that's been in my family for three generations," I said, stepping out into the cold night air. "There's a service tunnel that runs under the east wall. Leads straight into the library. Arthur doesn't even know about it—my dad showed it to me when I was a kid, made me swear never to tell anyone."
Miles climbed out after me, still looking skeptical. "And you're just now mentioning this?"
"Would've ruined the dramatic tension," I said, flashing him a grin that felt more genuine than anything I'd managed in weeks. "Come on. Follow me, and for God's sake, stay quiet. Last thing I need is Arthur waking up and deciding to investigate."
We moved through the shadows, sticking close to the perimeter fence until we reached the spot I remembered—a section of stone wall half-hidden by overgrown ivy. I knelt down, brushing aside the vines to reveal a rusted metal grate set into the ground. It took both me and Jax to pry it open, the hinges groaning in protest, but eventually it gave way, revealing a dark tunnel that smelled like damp earth and forgotten things.
"You first, Boss," Dante said, gesturing at the hole with exaggerated politeness.
I dropped down into the tunnel without hesitation, my boots hitting the dirt floor with a muffled thud. The ceiling was low enough that I had to hunch over, and the walls pressed in close on either side, but it was navigable. Barely.
One by one, the others followed, their breathing loud in the confined space. We moved in silence, the only sounds the scrape of boots against stone and the occasional muttered curse when someone's shoulder hit the wall. It felt like we were crawling through the earth's intestines, and by the time I finally saw the faint outline of the hatch above us, my back was screaming and my shirt was soaked with sweat.
I pushed the hatch open slowly, wincing at the creak of old wood, and pulled myself up into the library. The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon filtering through the tall windows. Shelves of leather-bound books loomed around us, their spines barely visible in the gloom.
"Everyone up," I whispered, reaching down to help Miles through. "And stay low. Arthur's rooms are directly below us—one wrong move and we're screwed."
We crept toward the door, every footstep carefully placed, every breath measured. The house was silent around us, the kind of heavy quiet that made you hyper-aware of every creak and groan. By the time we reached the staircase leading to the second floor, my nerves were stretched so tight I felt like I might snap.
"Weapons," I murmured, and the others pulled out their gear—lengths of rope, blunt instruments, nothing that would make noise if things went sideways. I checked the butterfly knife in my pocket one last time, then nodded toward the stairs. "Stay close. And don't make a sound."
The second floor was easier to navigate, the thick carpet muffling our footsteps as we moved down the hallway. I could see light spilling out from under Thomas's door, hear the faint murmur of raised voices. My pulse kicked up, adrenaline flooding my system as I pressed myself against the wall beside the door.
Inside, Thomas's voice rose sharp and angry. "You idiot! You've ruined everything! Why did you have to bring up Saint's Cove? What the hell were you thinking?"
Felix's reply was colder, edged with desperation. "What was I thinking? I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, my father would actually help me instead of sitting on his ass pretending to be sick while I get hunted like an animal!"
"I should never have come back," Thomas snarled. "I should've let them send you to Greenland. You're a goddamn liability, Felix!"
"Help me one more time," Felix said, his voice dropping to something almost pleading. "Just one more time, and I swear once Lance is dead, we'll disappear. Europe, South America, wherever you want. But I need you."
"No," Thomas snapped. "We're leaving tomorrow. Tonight, if I can arrange it. I'm done with this mess."
I'd heard enough.
I pushed the door open, the hinges barely making a sound, and stepped into the room with my hands in my pockets, my expression as casual as if I'd just walked into a coffee shop. Behind me, Miles, Dante, Carlo, and Jax fanned out, blocking the only exit.
"Well," I said, my voice cutting through the tension like a knife, "looks like neither of you is going anywhere."