Chapter 3 - THE ESCAPE AND THE UNDERGROUND
Hook: “A millionaire running for his life, carrying the pieces of his broken past.”Richard realized in that split second that he was completely outnumbered. The mansion, his security, his money—Evelyn had spent five years ensuring she controlled the chess board. If he fought here, he would lose his children forever.
He had to play the only card he had left: misdirection.
"The maid ran," Richard said, forcing his voice to sound broken, defeated. "She took the children and fled into the woods when she heard your car."
Evelyn eyed him suspiciously, analyzing his slumped shoulders. "Find them," she ordered her guards. "They couldn't have gone far on foot."
The guards rushed out the back doors toward the pine woods. Evelyn turned back to Richard. "Go to your room, son. Clean yourself up. We have a board meeting at nine tomorrow."
Richard nodded silently and walked toward the stairs. But he didn't go to his room.
The moment Evelyn walked into the study to make a phone call, Richard sprinted down the basement corridor. There was an old, forgotten wine cellar that connected to the estate’s original underground utility tunnels—built in the 1920s during prohibition. It led directly to the old carriage house outside the main gates.
He reached the library from the basement access panel. Inside, Lena was holding all four boys close, their small bodies trembling in the dark.
"Mr. Hail!" Lena gasped.
"Shh," Richard commanded softly. He dropped to his knees, looking at the four boys. For the first time, he didn't see an overwhelming tragedy; he saw his sons. "My name is Richard," he whispered, tears blurring his vision. "I am your father. I didn't know you were here. But I know now. And I am never going to let anyone hurt you again."
The oldest-looking boy, the one with the birthmark, reached out a small, dirt-smudged hand and touched Richard’s cheek, wiping away a tear. "Are we going home?"
"Yes," Richard said, his heart swelling and breaking all at once. "But we have to be very quiet."
Richard led Lena and the four boys through the damp, dark utility tunnels. The children didn't complain; they were used to the dark. They moved like small ghosts.
When they finally emerged inside the dusty carriage house outside the estate walls, Richard didn't dare use his own cars—they all had GPS trackers monitored by the company. Instead, he pulled the tarp off an old, unregistered 1990s pickup truck his late father had kept for sentimental reasons. The keys were in the visor.
"Get in," Richard told Lena and the boys, shoving them into the cab and covering the children with an old blanket.
As Richard started the engine, the truck sputtering to life, his phone rang. It was Marcus, his head of security.
"Sir, don't go back to the house!" Marcus shouted over the static. "I just intercepted a transmission from your mother's private line. She’s not trying to commit you to a hospital, Richard. She’s ordered a total 'clean-up' of the estate. She’s burning the caretaker’s cottage, destroying all the medical files, and she’s framed you for the abduction of those children. The police are already on their way to the mansion with an arrest warrant for you!"
Richard looked in the rearview mirror. In the distance, a dark orange glow began to light up the night sky over the pine woods. The cottage was on fire.
"Marcus," Richard said, his voice hardening into the ruthless executive he used to be. "Whose side are you on?"
There was a pause. "I served your father, sir. And I serve you. Not her."
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"Good," Richard said. "Find out where she’s keeping the original birth records from the hospital. The ones before she altered them. I’m going off the grid."
Richard slammed his foot on the gas, tearing down the dark country road just as police sirens began to wail in the distance.
