“And you, Vasquez — how dare you call me your daughter after you abandoned me and treated me like I meant nothing?” I snapped.
“Yet now you stand there like you need me more than anything.”
My chest burned. “What a piece of shit father you are.”
Silence followed.
Another impact slammed into the doors.
This one was heavier.
The entire frame vibrated.
My heart leapt into my throat.
I ran toward the security console near the staircase and pulled up the live feed.
Outside cameras flickered to life.
The footage displayed the front lawn — illuminated by floodlights.
The two men from earlier were no longer alone.
Dozens more stood behind them now.
Armored. Masked.
Equipped with industrial equipment.
My blood ran cold.
They had reinforcements.
They had backup staged beyond initial detection.
I zoomed in on one figure.
He carried something mounted on a tripod.
Not a simple battering ram. Not anymore.
“Explosives,” I breathed.
They were preparing a controlled breach.
My fingers flew across the screen.
I sprinted back toward the alcove.
I slid the panel open fully now.
Daphne looked up at me — not crying.
Not panicking.
Just watching.
Her tiny hand held Papa’s wool figure tighter.
