Chapter 3
Panic threatened to overwhelm the room as the heavy oak door remained firmly jammed in its frame. Julian slammed his shoulder against the wood, but the reinforced steel core held firm against his assault. "Marcus!" Julian roared, his voice echoing off the stone fireplace. "Open this door right now, or I swear to God—"
"Save your breath, Julian," Maya interrupted, her voice cutting through the panic with surgical precision. She dropped to one knee near the baseboard, pulling a compact tactical flashlight from her belt. The narrow beam cut through the swirling dust motes, illuminating the digital control panel of the smart lock. The screen was dark, glowing with a pulsing red warning light indicating an external system override. "The power grid to this wing has been deliberately isolated. We're running on a low-voltage auxiliary circuit, and the door lock is being controlled remotely from the main security console."
Claire clutched the arms of the wing chair, her breath coming in shallow, controlled gasps. Despite her pale complexion and the lingering trauma of the near-miss on the stairs, her eyes remained remarkably clear. "He didn't just come here to kill me tonight," Claire said, her voice steady. "The chandelier was plan A. This lockdown is plan B. Marcus wants access to the corporate override drives stored in Julian’s private wall safe behind the mahogany shelving."
Julian stopped his assault on the door, turning sharply toward his wife. "The safe? Marcus doesn't know the master combination. It requires dual authorization—both my biometric scan and Claire’s physical security token." He paused, his expression hardening as a terrifying realization dawned on him. "Unless he managed to copy your token during the charity gala last week when you left your handbag unattended in the parlor."
Maya didn't waste time debating probabilities. She swung the tactical flashlight upward, sweeping the beam across the ornate plaster ceiling and the ventilation grates near the crown molding. "Old-growth estates built in the nineteen-twenties were designed with arterial service shafts for coal-powered heating and servants' movement. If Marcus is using the main security console, he’s vulnerable from the secondary maintenance corridor."
May you like
Without waiting for permission, Maya holstered her light, gripped the edge of the heavy oak bookshelf, and shoved with all her weight. With a grinding screech of old hinges, the bookcase swung inward, revealing a dark, narrow brick alcove swallowed by absolute shadow. A rusted iron ladder descended into the damp chill of the sub-levels.
"Stay behind me," Maya commanded, unholstering a small, legal sidearm from her waistband as she stepped over the threshold into the dark void.
