Chapter 2 - The Hidden Dungeon Behind the Wine CellarWith Clara safely resting in the private medical suite upstairs under the watchful eye of a trusted family doctor, Julian descended back into the bowels of Vance Manor. He wasn't waiting for the authorities anymore. He needed to see where they had hidden her.
He marched past the main kitchen, ignoring the weeping staff who begged for mercy, and headed straight down the stone steps leading to the underground wine cellar. Victoria had always kept this specific corridor locked, claiming it housed rare, centuries-old vintages that were sensitive to light and temperature fluctuations.
Julian pulled a heavy master skeleton key ring from his pocket—one he had forced Mrs. Gable to surrender at gunpoint minutes earlier.
He tried the third iron key. It slid into the brass deadbolt with a satisfying click.
The heavy oak door swung open, revealing not rows of expensive wine, but a narrow, damp concrete corridor lit by a single flickering fluorescent bulb. The smell of mold, old dust, and human misery hit him instantly. Julian’s stomach churned. He pulled out his phone, turned on the flashlight, and stepped inside.
The hallway led to a reinforced steel door equipped with a heavy digital keypad and a small iron observation grate. Julian shuddered as he looked through the grate.
Inside was a cramped, windowless cell no larger than a walk-in closet. A filthy mattress lay on the cold concrete floor. A plastic bucket sat in the corner. Scratched deeply into the concrete wall next to the door were tally marks—hundreds of them, grouped in fives, tracking the agonizing days of imprisonment.
At the bottom of the wall, carved into the stone with what looked like a sharp piece of broken metal, were the words: Julian, find me.
Julian fell to his knees, pressing his palm against the cold concrete where his wife’s fingers had bled to leave a message he had been too blind to look for. The grief that had haunted him for four years instantly morphed into a white-hot, uncontrollable fury.
“Mr. Vance?”
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Julian turned his head sharply. It was Marcus, his chief legal counsel, standing at the entrance of the cell, flanked by four local police officers.
“We got the asset freeze confirmation from the federal bank,” Marcus reported, his eyes widening as he took in the horrors of the secret cell. “And... the local precinct just executed the search warrant for Victoria’s personal office upstairs. You’re not going to believe what they found in her safe.”
