The Billionaire Heir Nobody Saw Coming

3. Midnight Breach 2

The lamp on the desk flickered as a bullet punched through its shade. Glass rained across Jacob’s shoulder. “Stay down,” the guard hissed, crouched behind the marble column.

 “Not much choice,” Jacob muttered, scanning for angles.

Above, the lead intruder barked, “Hands where we can see them, Smith. No hero moves.”

Jacob called back, voice steady. “You’re in my house. Maybe lower the rifles.”

A sharp laugh. “Technically, it’s still your grandfather’s. Now stand up.”

The guard leaned close. “Two on the right balcony, one left. They’ve got night optics. We need distraction.”

Jacob’s mind ticked through possibilities, routes, sightlines, the hidden panic-room corridor. “Basement tunnel,” he whispered. “North library shelf. But we need five seconds.”

The guard nodded once. A sudden crash exploded from the hallway behind them, shattering porcelain, echoing like thunder.

Both intruders on the right whipped toward the noise. The guard fired twice, controlled, precise. One man screamed, rifle clattering.

Jacob vaulted over the desk toward the far bookshelf. Bullets chewed the wood behind him.

The remaining intruder fired a short burst, splinters stinging Jacob’s cheek. He ducked, slammed his palm against the carved lion emblem on the shelf.  A hidden panel clicked. “Go!” the guard barked.

Jacob slipped through the narrow opening into darkness. The guard followed, sealing the panel just as another volley rattled the room.

The passageway was pitch black, air cool and metallic. Only their breathing filled the space. “Who are they?” the guard whispered.

“They knew my name,” Jacob said. “And that I’d come tonight.”

“Inside intel.”

“Has to be.”

They descended a tight spiral staircase. Each step echoed like a clock counting down. Halfway down, Jacob’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the encrypted screen. STOP RUNNING.

He clenched his jaw. “They’re tracking us.”

“Impossible. This line’s hardened.”

“Apparently not.”

The guard quickened pace. “The tunnel ends at the wine cellar, then the panic room.”

“Grandfather’s there.”

“That’s the plan.”

They emerged into the cavernous cellar, oak barrels looming like silent witnesses.

Emergency lights glowed faint red along the floor. A faint cough echoed from the far end. “Grandfather?” Jacob called softly.

The guard signaled caution. They edged forward, pistols raised. A figure stepped from behind a barrel, tall, lean, dressed in an immaculate gray suit. “Finally,” the man said, voice low and cultured. “Jacob Smith.”

Jacob froze. The stranger’s face was unfamiliar, pale eyes, hair silver at the temples. “Who are you?” Jacob demanded.

“Someone who expected you sooner.”

The guard aimed squarely. “Hands up.”

The man smiled faintly, ignoring the weapon. “Your grandfather sends regrets. He’s safe, for now.”

“What do you want?”

“A conversation.” He spread his hands. “No harm, if you listen.”

Jacob’s pulse hammered. “You broke into a fortress for a chat?”

“I prefer to think of it as an invitation.”

The guard’s grip tightened. “Back away. Now.”

The man’s pale eyes flicked to Jacob. “You’ve inherited more enemies than fortune. Tonight is merely the opening move.”

Jacob stepped closer, gun leveled. “Where is my grandfather?”

“Secure. And waiting. But before you see him, you need to hear the truth.”

“I’m not interested in your games.”

“Then your family dies ignorant.”

The guard shifted, finger on the trigger. “Enough.”

The man’s smile sharpened. “Shoot me and the panic room failsafe activates. Your patriarch’s oxygen will deplete in minutes.”

Jacob’s breath caught. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? You’ve never tested the system, have you?”

A tense silence stretched, broken only by the low hum of the emergency lights. “What truth?” Jacob asked at last.

The stranger tilted his head. “The Smith fortune isn’t merely money. It’s a key. And keys open doors, to alliances older than nations. Someone among you has already sold that key.”

“Sold?”

“Think carefully, heir. Power attracts betrayal. And tonight, the betrayer is closer than you think.”

The guard barked, “Names. Now.”

But the stranger only smiled wider. “You’ll discover them soon enough.”

Suddenly, a dull boom reverberated through the cellar, deep, mechanical. The stranger’s eyes flicked upward. “Ah. Right on time.”

“What did you.”

The overhead lights snapped off, plunging the cellar into black. A cold, metallic hiss followed, gas venting. “Mask!” the guard shouted, yanking a compact respirator from his vest and shoving a spare toward Jacob.

Jacob pulled it on, heart pounding. Through the visor he saw only darkness. When the emergency lights flickered back to dim red seconds later, the stranger was gone.

Only a scrap of paper lay on the stone floor, fluttering in the breeze from the ventilation shaft.

Jacob snatched it. Scrawled in precise black ink: TRUST NO BLOOD.