My billionaire boss came home three hours early and found his housekeeper and his twins tied up in his guest room… but the real shock was the young gunman hiding in the closet—because when he said “My name is Gabriel Talbot,” the CEO finally realized his “hostile takeover” had destroyed a family… and tonight, the consequences came to collect.

THE BROKEN TOY

He ascended the floating staircase, hand tight on the cold railing, then checked Mrs. Higgins’ suite. Empty. Bed neatly made. Likely staying with her sister.

That left Marina. And the boys.

The staff wing stretched down a long east corridor. Moonlight cast thin, skeletal shadows across the floor. Halfway down, something rested on the Persian runner.

A toy fire truck. One wheel broken off, lying nearby.

Alexander’s stomach clenched. The twins knew the rule: no toys in the main corridors. Marina enforced it strictly—afraid of Alexander’s temper if the house fell short of “perfect.”

A broken toy here wasn’t carelessness.
It was disorder.

His pulse began to thunder, drowning out the wind outside. He stopped moving carefully and started moving fast.