Chapter 5 - The Glass House ShattersThe deafening roar of the gunshot echoed off the mahogany walls.
I closed my eyes, braced for the impact—but the bullet didn't hit me.
Trevor had lunged forward, grabbing his mother’s arm just as she pulled the trigger. The bullet tore into the ceiling, showering us in plaster and dust.
"Are you crazy?!" Trevor screamed, wrestling the gun away from his mother. "We can't just execute them in the study! The staff will hear! The alarm is going off!"
Outside, the mansion's security system began to wail, blue lights flashing against the tall windows.
"You fool!" Victoria shrieked, slapping her son across the face with terrifying force. "They have the documents! Kill them now!"
In the chaos, Brooke didn't hesitate. She grabbed the heavy brass desk clock and slammed it directly into the side of Victoria’s head. Victoria collapsed onto the rug with a sharp cry.
"Mom, RUN!" Brooke yelled.
We grabbed the leather folder, pushed past a stunned Trevor, and sprinted down the long grand hallway toward the service exit.
"SECURITY! LOCK THE GATES!" Trevor’s voice boomed through the intercom system, echoing through the halls. "DO NOT LET THEM LEAVE!"
We reached the kitchen, the air thick with the smell of copper and panic. I shoved open the heavy metal door leading to the courtyard, but two armed private security guards were already running across the lawn toward us, guns drawn.
"In here!" I pulled Brooke into the detached four-car garage.
We slammed the heavy doors shut, sliding the manual bolt into place. Outside, boots thudded against the pavement, followed by heavy pounding on the wood.
"Elena! Brooke! Open the door!" Trevor shouted from the other side. "There is nowhere to go! The entire perimeter is fenced! You’re trapped!"
I looked around the cavernous garage. Parked in the center was Trevor’s prized possession—a custom-built vintage Dodge Charger with a reinforced steel bumper.
The keys were hanging on the pegboard right beside the ignition wall.
"Brooke, get in the passenger seat," I said, my blood turning to pure ice.
"Mom, what are you going to do?"
"They took your life, they took your health, and they tried to take your child," I said, pulling the heavy keys off the hook and jumping into the driver’s seat. "It’s time to return the favor."
I roared the 700-horsepower engine to life. The violent rumble of the V8 engine shook the glass windows of the garage.
Outside, the pounding stopped.
"Elena, don't do this!" Trevor yelled, his voice suddenly filled with sheer terror.
I slammed the car into reverse, revved the engine until the tires screamed, and slammed my foot down on the gas pedal.
The Charger launched backward, pulverizing the heavy wooden garage doors into splinters, slamming directly into Trevor’s security team. The guards scrambled for cover as wood, metal, and shattered glass erupted into the night sky.
I spun the steering wheel, shifted into drive, and aimed the front steel grill straight at the high, ornate iron gates of the Vance estate.
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"HOLD ON!" I screamed.
The car smashed through the iron gates at sixty miles per hour, tearing the metal from its concrete pillars in a shower of sparks. We shot out onto the main road, the night air rushing through the shattered windshield as we disappeared into the dark.
