Chapter 3 - THE BURIED SECRETS"Don't move!" one of the masked men barked, his voice digitized through a voice changer.
Vance didn't hesitate. Before the gunman could raise his weapon fully, Vance raised his gun and fired two rapid shots. The deafening pop-pop of the suppressed rounds shattered the quiet of the house. The lead intruder crumpled to the floor, clutching his shoulder.
The second intruder lunged forward, tackling Vance to the ground. The gun skittered across the polished floorboards, sliding directly toward Eli’s feet.
Eli screamed, dropping his tablet.
"Eli, close your eyes!" I shrieked.
Adrenaline surged through my veins, wiping away all fear. I grabbed a heavy bronze statue of a horse from Daniel’s desk and charged. With every ounce of strength in my body, I swung the heavy bronze weapon into the back of the second intruder's head.
A sickening crack echoed through the room. The man groaned and fell limp over Vance.
Vance gasped for air, kicking the unconscious man off him. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed his weapon, and pointed it at the doorway. "We have to move! Now!"
"What about Marjorie and Grant?!" I yelled, pulling Eli into my arms. Eli was sobbing, hiding his face in the crook of my neck.
"Forget them! They set this up, or they brought these monsters straight to your doorstep!" Vance grabbed his locked briefcase. "There’s a panic room behind the wine cellar. Follow me!"
We ran down the back stairwell, our footsteps echoing frantically against the cold stone. As we reached the ground level, I caught a glimpse of the front foyer through the iron railings.
Marjorie and Grant were standing by the front doors. But they weren't running in fear. They were standing calmly alongside a third man—a tall, impeccably dressed man in a charcoal suit, clutching a silver-topped cane.
My heart plunged into my stomach. I recognized that man.
It was Victor Vale. Daniel’s father... the man who was supposed to have died in a plane crash ten years ago.
"He's alive..." I whispered, pulling to a sudden halt on the stairs.
Vance looked back and saw him too. Vance’s face turned gray. "Dear God... Victor."
From across the foyer, Victor Vale turned his head slowly. His eyes were cold, piercing blue, void of any human warmth. He looked up the stairwell and locked eyes with me. A chilling, slow smile spread across his face.
"Hello, Lena," Victor’s voice echoed through the hall, deep and resonant. "You always were an uninvited guest in my house."
"You monster!" I screamed down at him. "You killed your own son!"
"Daniel was weak," Victor said smoothly, tapping his cane against the marble floor. "He lacked the stomach for what this family must do to survive. He thought he could give away my empire to a commoner and her bastard child. I spent forty years building Titan Global. I won't let a grieving widow burn it to the ground."
"Eli is Daniel’s son!" I yelled, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"It doesn't matter what he is," Victor replied coolly. "He won't live long enough to prove it. Grant, fetch the briefcase from the study. Victor's men, clear the basement."
"Run!" Vance shoved me down the final flight of stairs toward the basement door.
We sprinted into the dark, cold basement, past rows of dusty wine bottles. Vance slammed a heavy steel door shut behind us, punched a seven-digit code into an electronic keypad, and pulled a lever. Thick steel bolts slammed into place just as heavy footsteps began pounding against the outside of the door.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
The metal door shuddered, but held firm.
"We're safe in here for now," Vance panted, resting his hands on his knees. "This panic room is reinforced with four-inch ballistic steel. It has its own air filtration system and a secondary escape tunnel."
"Arthur..." I said, holding a trembling Eli against my chest as I looked around the concrete bunker. "If Victor is alive, then the entire company... the entire estate... everything Daniel built was built on a lie."
"Worse than that, Lena," Vance said, walking over to a computer terminal built into the wall. He plugged in the encrypted flash drive. "Victor didn't just fake his death to avoid taxes. He faked his death because ten years ago, he was recruited by an international syndicate known as The Obsidian Group. They buy up defense contractors, orchestrate regional conflicts, and profit off the chaos."
The monitor flared to life, illuminating the dark room with blue light. Document after document scrolled across the screen—bank transfers, classified blueprints, and assassination orders.
And then, a video file popped up on the screen. The thumbnail was a timestamp from three weeks ago.
It was a recording from Daniel’s personal hidden camera in his private office.
"Play it," I whispered.
Vance clicked the file.
The video began to play. Daniel was sitting at his desk, looking pale and exhausted. The door opened, and Marjorie stepped into the room. But she wasn't alone. Walking in right behind her was Victor.
Daniel looked up, his eyes widening in absolute horror. "Father...? You're... you're dead."
"I was never dead to those who mattered, Daniel," Victor said on the screen.
Then, Marjorie walked over to Daniel’s desk, picked up his glass of water, and dropped three clear, odorless drops from a tiny glass vial into it.
"Drink it, sweetheart," Marjorie said on the recording, her voice filled with sickening sweetness. "It's time to go to sleep. Your father needs his company back."
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I covered my mouth, a blood-curdling scream trapped in my throat.
It wasn't just a stranger. It was his own mother. Marjorie had poisoned her own son.
