Chapter 4 - The Shattered Threshold
The heavy iron chain snaps under the sheer mechanical leverage, its links flying apart and landing with hot, metallic sizzles in the deep snowbank. The massive iron gates swing open with a long, agonizing groan of rusted hinges, slamming back against the stone pillars with a force that dislodges heavy clumps of snow from the masonry above.
Jax doesn't wait for the echoes to fade. He turns back to Leo, scooping the boy up in one arm while holding the heavy leather jacket firmly around both children with the other. Despite carrying nearly eighty pounds of weight, Jax moves up the snow-slick driveway with terrifying speed, his heavy boots biting deep into the ice.
They reach the grand double oak doors of the manor house. The doors are reinforced with decorative brass studs and a heavy iron knocker shaped like a roaring lion's head.
Jax doesn't bother knocking. He raises his right boot and plants it straight into the central seam of the lock mechanism with the explosive force of a battering ram.
BOOM.
The heavy oak doors splinter around the deadbolt, bursting inward with a shower of wood fragments and brass screws. The cold mountain air rushes into the grand, heated foyer of Blackwood Manor, swirling the heavy crimson curtains and knocking over a tall, blue-and-white porcelain vase sitting on an antique mahogany side table.
Inside, the house is a stark, jarring contrast to the winter wasteland outside. The foyer is vast, lined with polished dark oak paneling, grand crystal chandeliers casting a warm, golden light across expensive Oriental rugs, and a sweeping double staircase leading up to a mezzanine gallery. The air smells heavily of polished mahogany, expensive cigars, antique paper, and beneath it all, a faint, sharp chemical tang that makes Jax’s nose twitch—ether and formaldehyde.
"Who the hell is that?" a sharp, angry voice barks from the top of the grand staircase.
Two men dressed in dark tactical trousers, heavy security vests, and carrying heavy rubber-coated batons rush out onto the mezzanine balcony. Their faces are hard, professional, and completely devoid of empathy—hired security enforcement brought in from the metropolis down south.
"Get out of here!" the lead guard demands, unholstering a heavy stun gun from his belt as he begins descending the stairs. "This is private property! You're trespassing!"
May you like
Jax steps inside, kicking the splintered oak door shut behind him to block the freezing wind from reaching the children wrapped in his coat. He sets Leo down gently on a soft leather bench near the entryway, ensuring the boy and baby are shielded behind a massive mahogany hall tree.
"Stay here, Leo," Jax whispers, his steel-gray eyes fixing on the two guards descending the stairs. "Don't look."
