Chapter 5 - The Siege of Moretti Manor
"Lock the doors!" I shouted, sprinting toward the heavy mahogany entrance of Lucas's bedroom and throwing the deadbolt just as the heavy brass doorknob began to rattle.
"Claire, get the boys into the walk-in security panic room inside my master suite," Vincent commanded, his voice shaking off its shock and replacing it with the cold, ruthless calculation of a billionaire who built an empire from the ground up. "There’s an emergency staircase behind the master wardrobe."
"What about you?" I asked, grabbing Lucas and Leo by their hands as they whimpered in confusion.
"I'm going to the ground-floor security terminal," Vincent said, pulling a heavy brass key from his pocket and handing it to me. "The estate's main server room has a hardwired analog kill switch. If they override the digital grid, I can cut all power to the perimeter and lock the compound down into a literal fortress."
"Dad, don't leave us!" Leo cried out, his small fingers clinging desperately to Vincent’s trousers.
"I'll be right behind you, champ," Vincent lied, his eyes unspeakably sad as he kissed the top of each boy's head. "Go with Claire. She's the bravest person in this house."
I didn't waste another second. Hauling the twins down the sprawling hallway, we bypassed the master bedroom and wrenched open the heavy oak door leading to Vincent’s private suite. The sound of splintering wood echoed from downstairs—the Sterling private security team had breached the front doors.
"Keep moving, boys! Fast as you can!" I urged, pushing them toward the massive walnut walk-in wardrobe that spanned the entire western wall of the master bedroom.
Inside the wardrobe, rows of custom-tailored suits and cashmere coats parted like theater curtains as I pressed a hidden brass button disguised as a clothing hook. The back panel of the wardrobe swung inward with a heavy, pneumatic hiss, revealing a narrow, concrete-lined stairwell lit by dim amber emergency strips.
"In! Get in!" I urged, bundling Lucas and Leo down the first few steps before climbing in behind them and pulling the heavy steel door shut.
The door locked automatically with a satisfying, airtight thud.
Inside, the panic room was surprisingly spacious—equipped with emergency medical supplies, water tanks, independent oxygen scrubbers, and a high-definition monitor wall displaying live feeds from every camera across the estate.
"Are we playing hide-and-seek, Claire?" Lucas asked, his voice trembling as he clutched a stuffed bear he had grabbed from his bed.
"Something like that, buddy," I whispered, kneeling down to look them both in the eyes. "I need you to sit right here on this bench, stay very quiet, and don't open this door for anyone except your dad or me. Understand?"
They both nodded bravely, their little hands locking together.
I turned my attention to the monitor wall. The screens flickered to life, casting an eerie blue glow across the concrete walls of the shelter.
On Camera 4, located in the grand foyer, I watched Dr. Harrison Blake walk through the shattered front doors, flanked by four armed operatives in tactical gear.
May you like
And standing right behind them, calmly stepping over the broken glass of the foyer table, was a woman I had only ever seen in framed photographs resting on Vincent's study desk.
Isabella’s older sister—Eleanor Sterling.
