Chapter 222: Chapter 222: Relational Friction and Executive Security
Alexander guided the heavy silver Tahoe smoothly down the quiet residential street pulling up to the imposing gates of his grandmother’s estate. As the massive SUV slowed to a halt, a uniform-clad security guard stepped out from the main gatehouse—someone Alexander had never seen before.
Alexander pressed the control on his armrest, the thick 45mm ballistic window gliding down with a muted hiss. "I’m Alexander," he said, his voice flat. "I’m here to pick up Amy."
The guard adjusted his tactical belt, looking at the heavily armored vehicle with an expression. "My apologies, sir. I have strict orders from the current estate management not to permit any unauthorized entry today. I must kindly ask you to turn your vehicle around and vacate the perimeter immediately."
"Give me a minute," said Alexander, a cold annoyance bubbling up in his chest. "I’m making a call."
He reached for his phone and speed-dialed Amy. The line picked up almost instantly. "Hey, I’m right outside," said Alexander, keeping his eyes locked onto the guard. "There are some new watchdogs at the gate. Can you tell the old lady to get them out of my way before I flatten them with my truck?"
Hearing the blatant threat, the guard’s face flushed with anger. He tapped his shoulder-mounted radio transmitter. "Dispatch, we have an aggressive agitator at the main gate... requesting immediate reinforcements."
The guard drew his sidearm, leveling the barrel at the driver’s side door. "Step out of the vehicle right now! Keep your hands where I can see them and move slowly!"
Alexander casually popped the door latch, stepping out of the high cabin and onto the gravel. "Alright. Now what?"
"Hands behind your back, interlock your fingers on the crown of your head, and get down on your knees right now!" yelled the guard, his weapon trembling slightly under the sheer, imposing presence of the four-ton silver fortress and the man standing beside it.
Alexander let out a dry, dangerous chuckle. "Why don’t you come over here and try to force me down yourself?"
Within seconds, the crunch of gravel echoed from the main driveway as two additional guards sprinted up to the gatehouse, their weapons drawn as they formed a tight, three-man tactical line against Alexander. Out of the corner of his eye, Alexander caught a glimpse of a familiar figure walking across the upper terrace toward the mansion doors—it was Xavier. The man briefly glanced toward the commotion at the front gates, but ignored the situation, turning his back and stepping inside the house with indifference.
"I see... Xavier," muttered Alexander, his eyes narrowing into slits as he put the pieces together. "So this little circus is your doing? I seriously hope you don’t end up regretting this later."
"How dare you speak the name of the master of this house so casually?" snapped the first guard, stepping forward.
"Master? What the hell do you mean... ’master’?" said Alexander, his expression shifting from annoyance to pure, mocking disbelief. "He’s nothing but my grandmother’s lapdog."
The three guards caught the insulting tone, but ignored the specific mention of his grandmother. Sensing an threat, the two reinforcements tightened their grips on their triggers.
Losing his remaining patience, Alexander launched himself forward with terrifying, explosive speed.
Bang! Bang!
Two shots echoed across the estate grounds, but Alexander easily anticipated the trajectory, slipping his frame to the side as the rounds hissed through the empty air where he had been standing a second prior.
Before the first guard could even re-align his sights, Alexander was already inside his guard. His hand shot out like a steel clamp, violently wrenching the weapon out of the man’s grip while simultaneously twisting his arm around behind his back. Utilizing the struggling guard as a living ballistic shield, Alexander pivoted his weight just as the other two watchdogs panicked and fired another volley.
The heavy rounds tore straight into the torso of their own teammate, the impact sending violent tremors through the human shield. Without missing a beat, Alexander used the dying momentum of the heavy body, violently hurling the bleeding guard into the other two men. The impact knocked them off balance, sending them crashing hard onto the gravel driveway in a tangled mess.
Alexander followed the throw dropping his weight and driving a kick into the temple of the second guard. The heavy heel of his shoe connected with a dull thud, knocking the man unconscious before his head even hit the stone.
Alexander calmly stepped over the debris of the brief skirmish, planting his heavy boot directly onto the chest of the very first guard—the one who had proudly spoken about Xavier’s authority. The man was pinned, coughing up blood and staring up at Alexander with pure, unadulterated terror.
"Now," said Alexander, leaning down slightly, his voice dropping into a freezing, razor-sharp whisper. "Repeat that shit you just said... and keep in mind, every single time I hear something out of your mouth that mildly irritates me, you are losing a tooth."
Inside the grand foyer of the mansion, the heavy oak doors could barely muffle the chaotic shouting echoing through the main halls.
"Mother! What the hell is going on out there?!" shouted Amy, her face flushed with fury as she marched down the marble corridor. "Why the fuck are your new guards blocking Alexander from entering the estate?!"
Helen stood right beside her, her eyes blazing with equal rage as she confronted her mother, Rachel, who remained sitting perfectly upright in her armchair, her posture rigid and unyielding.
"Alexander is a liability to this family," said Rachel, her voice cold, flat, and dripping with aristocratic arrogance. "He does not belong here, and he will not be permitted to cross the threshold of this house ever again. My decision is final."
"Are you insane?!" shouted Helen, stepping directly into her mother’s space, her hands trembling with rage. "Have you lost your goddamn mind?!"
Rachel’s eyes snapped up, her face twisting into a mask of pure indignation as she slammed her hand down on the armrest. "I am your mother! You will not speak to me in that tone!"
"My mother?!" said Helen, letting out a bitter, venomous laugh that echoed sharply off the high ceilings. "The moment you started fucking my brother-in-law, you stopped being my mother. To me, you’re nothing but a worthless whore..!!"
