Chapter 4 - THE SUBTERRANEAN ESCAPEThe stone steps were slick with moisture, disappearing into absolute blackness.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second. Behind me lay a locked room, a traitorous husband, and a mother-in-law who planned to murder me before dinner. Ahead lay an unknown subterranean maze beneath a cursed family estate.
It wasn't much of a choice.
I stepped through the hidden doorway and pulled the rotating bookcase partially shut behind me, leaving a narrow crack of light so I could find my way back if I hit a dead end.
The air grew colder as I descended, the sound of crashing waves growing louder with every step. My fingers brushed against the damp stone walls to keep my balance. After what felt like descending five stories underground, the stairs leveled out into a narrow concrete tunnel lit by dim, flickering emergency lights housed in heavy wire cages.
A maintenance tunnel, I realized. Every old estate on the cliffs had smuggling routes or service tunnels, but this one was reinforced with modern steel plating and fiber-optic cables.
I crept forward, hugging the curved wall, my bare feet silent against the concrete floor.
As I rounded a sharp corner, the tunnel opened into a large subterranean chamber. I flattened myself against the wall, holding my breath, and peered into the room.
My blood ran cold.
It wasn't a utility room. It was a communications hub. Dozens of glowing computer monitors lined the walls, displaying live feeds of every room in the main house—including the master bedroom, the kitchen, the front gates, and... the West Suite where I had just been locked.
Sitting in front of the monitors, wearing a security headset, was a man I recognized instantly.
Marcus, Ethan’s personal head of security.
“Target is secure in West Suite Four,” Marcus spoke into his headset, his voice echoing slightly in the concrete bunker. “No egress points. Exterior perimeter is green. Wedding prep for tomorrow is on schedule at the chapel cliff.”
“Understood,” a voice crackled through the comms speaker. It was Ethan. “Keep a double guard on the eastern perimeter. If she finds the maintenance chute, I want to know immediately.”
Maintenance chute.
My eyes darted frantically around the bunker. Directly behind Marcus’s chair, half-hidden by a gray industrial curtain, was a vertical metal shaft with a ladder leading straight up.
A vertical escape route.
And Marcus was sitting directly beneath it.
I scanned the room for a distraction. On a metal desk near the entrance sat an industrial fire extinguisher and a heavy metal wrench. If I could create a diversion—trigger an alarm or short out the power—Marcus would leave the console to check the breaker panel.
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It was a long shot. If he caught me, there would be no second chance. They would lock me in a place far worse than the West Suite.
I took a deep, steadying breath, gripped the heavy metal wrench from the desk, and crept forward like a shadow across the concrete floor.
