Page 153 of BounBound By Scars

I was just another shadow among Romano’s private death squad.

Because that’s what they were—not soldiers, not official security.

Mercs.

Killers for hire, loyal to whoever wired their payment on time.

The mansion behind me loomed like a palace dipped in blood money. Glowing windows. Precision landscaping.

And the land around it?

Crawling.

Twenty men. No chatter. No error. Clean formation. A few in elevated overwatch positions. Thermal surveillance rigs.

This was a setup. A staging ground. A kill zone dressed as a fortress.

I stared into the estate, heart steady, breath even.

And for the first time in a long time—I doubted Blackthorn’s odds.

They thought they were the predators tonight.

But they knew they were walking straight into an ambush. I was sure of it.

And I didn’t know if I could stop it in time.

I waited in the dark—motionless, invisible.

Five of Romano’s ground security were with me, scattered across the south lawn. Seven snipers were posted at key vantage points—tree lines, terraces, and elevated balconies. Another eight backup mercs were tucked deeper into the estate’s interior, probably lying in wait like coiled vipers.

That was all they told me. Nothing more. No map. No locations. I was deliberately kept on a need-to-know leash.

And I hated it.

I didn’t even know how many Blackthorn was bringing in.

I wanted—needed—to warn them. But radio silence had kept them alive this long. Breaking it now could put everything at risk.

So I waited.

The air was too still. Even the leaves didn’t dare rustle.

I flexed my fingers once on the grip of my rifle. Checked the line-of-sight. Confirmed my exit points. Again.

Then, like a fuse had been silently lit—crack.

“Fuck—sniper down!”

The merc beside me flinched, startled as Dragon—Romano’s team lead—shouted into his earpiece.

I turned just enough to catch the slight tremor in his stance. He was trying to locate the source. Too late.

“We’ve lost Bravo-Four and Six,” came another voice over comms. “Repeat—two snipers down. Repeat—”

Crack. Thump. Crack.

Two more.

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