Xavier and Anastasia instantly turned when they heard three sharp gunshots echo through the estate—followed by Tracie’s terrified scream.
"They’re here," Xander muttered grimly.
Without hesitation, Anastasia reached into the side holster beneath her coat and pulled out her gun, her fingers steady despite the sudden chaos.
"Mother and Father should be in the east wing," she said quickly. "I’ll go help them out imdiately."
Before either of her brothers could stop her, she sprinted down the hallway.
Xavier turned to the n who had been preparing to torch the smaller mansion buildings. "Go with her," he ordered. "Make sure they get out safely."
The ard n gave a short nod and imdiately followed Anastasia’s lead. Now, only Xavier, Xander, and Samantha remained behind.
They moved outside.
The once serene estate had turned into a battlefield. The people Mr. Wallace had brought with him were already scattering, entering the other buildings like a swarm of locusts. Shouts echoed in the distance. Gunfire crackled like firecrackers going off periodically.
Tracie was nowhere in sight, and neither were the rest of the family mbers—likely hiding, or worse, caught.
Then ca a random roar. "Xander!"
Mr. Wallace stepped into view, disheveled and wild-eyed. His voice was laced with fury, veins bulging from his neck. "Things didn’t have to be this way! Couldn’t you be a good son for once in your goddamn life?! You pretend to be decent for five seconds and then go back to being worse than ever! Pick a side and stay there!!"
His tone dripped with rage and desperation, and saliva flew from his lips with every word.
Xander didn’t flinch. He stood tall and silent, his jaw clenched, refusing to acknowledge the man who had ruined so many lives.
Mr. Wallace’s fury only intensified.
Then he turned his glare to Xavier. "And you—you’re siding with him?! After everything I taught you?!"
"You taught nothing!!" Xander exploded, voice cutting through the air like a blade.
His eyes scanned the area quickly, alert.
"Where’s your partner in cri?" Xander asked mockingly. "Didn’t you bring Bruce to enjoy the show? What happened? Did he finally realize you’re nothing but a bitter old man chasing ghosts?"
"I’m your father!!" Mr. Wallace bellowed, spit flying. "You’re supposed to be at my rcy! But look at you! None of my sons respect . Not you. Not Xavier. And definitely not Kace!"
Mr. Wallace didn’t look like a powerful patriarch anymore. He was filthy, his usually pristine suit crumpled and stained. His once polished shoes were caked in dirt. Days of unshaven stubble darkened his jaw, making him look like a deranged fugitive rather than a mafia boss.
"Let’s just get this over with," Xavier finally said, tone low and flat. "You’ve been barking like a rabid dog since you got here. What do you want?"
Mr. Wallace’s eyes twitched.
Then a slow, smug smile spread across his face. "To think I’d be welcod with at least a look of surprise. You blocked every route, locked down every border, but I still got in."
Xavier and Xander exchanged a sharp glance—but any unspoken ssage between them was cut short when the Clark couple, Jeffrey and Nora, were dragged out of one of the buildings by two unfamiliar n—clearly Wallace’s henchn.
"Oh, look who we have here," Mr. Wallace said, grinning wide. "Nora, my sweetheart."
From her hidden position in the shadows, Anastasia narrowed her eyes.
"Such a psychopath," she whispered. Tracie was crouched beside her, loading fresh rounds into her pistol.
"He really thought Xavier wouldn’t be expecting this," Tracie murmured, rolling her eyes. "n like him don’t think—they assu."
Anastasia studied the scene. She counted twelve n. So were inside the mansion, but those visible were mostly untrained. Sloppy posture. Nervous eyes. Unclean weapons.
"I bet he picked those thugs straight out of the gutter," Tracie added under her breath.
"Insane," Anastasia muttered.
"You’re insane, Thomas!" Nora’s voice rang out clearly. "After all these years, you still can’t let it go!"
"You betrayed by choosing him!!" Mr. Wallace roared.
Even Tracie visibly winced at the bitterness in his voice. "Who would’ve guessed old people could have such ssy love lives," she said dryly. Anastasia elbowed her.
Anastasia saw the tiny red laser dot appear on one of the thugs. It was her signal from Kace.
She inhaled sharply.
"Three..." she whispered.
Jeffrey and Wallace were shouting over each other. The tension was boiling.
"Two..."
Mr. Wallace’s veins bulged. His eyes were bloodshot.
"One."
The first bullet hit ho. One of the henchn holding Nora collapsed, his chest a bloody ss.
Anastasia and Tracie burst from their hiding place, guns drawn, and ran to their parents, shielding them and ushering them away as the chaos erupted. Sa with the n Xavier had instructed earlier.
More gunfire followed. Mr. Wallace’s n didn’t stand a chance. One by one, they dropped—so before they even realized they were under attack.
From all sides, Wallace’s army was being cut down. The n who had stord the mansion earlier rushed out in panic, only to be t with swift, rciless bullets.
Within seconds, Mr. Wallace was surrounded by corpses. The ground was littered with bodies, blood staining the white stone driveway.
And yet, Xavier, Xander, and Samantha hadn’t moved an inch. They simply stood and watched, as if the carnage unfolding was inevitable.
"You ca here for a reason only you understand," Xavier said, eyes cold. "But the least you could’ve done was co prepared... Father."
Mockery coated the word like venom.
Mr. Wallace’s rage exploded. "FUCK YOU, XAVIER!!"
Without thinking, he pulled the trigger—aid straight for Xavier’s heart.
But soone stepped in.
Xander.
The bullet struck him squarely in the chest. Blood spurted from the wound. His body jerked violently from the impact. Eyes wide in shock. Then he collapsed to the ground.
Everything stopped.
Xavier’s breath caught. For a mont, the world went silent.
"XANDER!!" he scread, voice breaking.
Samantha gasped, rushing to Xander’s side, hands trembling as she tried to stop the bleeding. But it was bad.
Xavier’s eyes turned crimson with fury. His jaw tightened. "Kace," he said into the mic on his collar, "Finish him."
The red dot shifted.
"No!" Mrs. Wallace cried, running toward Thomas. "He’s still your father!"
Too late.
One clean shot. Mr. Wallace’s head snapped back as the bullet tore through his skull. His body dropped beside the corpses of the n he had brought with him.
Silence fell again—this ti heavy, final.
Mr. Wallace was dead.
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