Chapter 10: The Price of Loyalty
Back at Highgate Manor, the storm battered the stained-glass windows with renewed fury. Beatrice Highgate stood at the center of the grand foyer, her shimmering cream-colored evening gown catching the cold, stark light of the entryway chandelier. Her posture was rigid, her pearl necklace gleaming against her skin as she waited with absolute, terrifying calm.
Heavy footsteps echoed across the marble floor as three men in dark tactical overcoats strode into the foyer, melting out of the shadows of the unlit corridors. Their leader, a scarred man with cold, dead eyes named Viktor, pulled down his scarf, letting a cloud of freezing air escape his lips. He looked around the empty, opulent hallway with undisguised disdain.
"Where is he, Mrs. Highgate?" Viktor asked, his voice flat and devoid of warmth. "Our contract stipulated that the boy would be handed over to us tonight as collateral for the restructuring of your husband's debts. We didn't drive through twenty miles of blizzard to admire your antiques."
Beatrice did not flinch. She met Viktor’s cold gaze without blinking. "My husband miscalculated," she said steadily. "The boy is gone. And so are the vault ledgers."
Viktor’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He took a slow step forward, resting his gloved hand on the grip of a suppressed firearm concealed beneath his coat. "Gone where? That estate is locked down tighter than a federal prison. Nobody leaves this property in this weather without leaving tracks."
Before Beatrice could answer, Julian stumbled out from the shadows of the hallway, his tuxedo disheveled, his hair wild and unkempt. He looked like a madman, his eyes wide with hysterical panic as he threw himself between his wife and the enforcers.
"She didn't know!" Julian babbled, his voice cracking hysterically. "It was the waitress! A girl from the agency! She broke open the wall and took him! They're heading for the old carriage house!"
Viktor stared at Julian with absolute disgust, then slowly turned his gaze back to Beatrice. "You let a hired girl ruin a twelve-million-dollar transaction?"
"My husband is a fool who tried to play a game he was never equipped to win," Beatrice replied coldly, refusing to defend Julian. "And you are fools if you thought you could buy a child in this day and age without consequence."
Viktor gestured sharply to his two associates. "Tear the place apart. Check the perimeter tracks leading to the carriage house. If the boy and the girl make it to a radio, we're all finished."
The two enforcers spun around, drawing flashlights and heavy weapons as they charged toward the east gallery doors, leaving Viktor standing alone with the Highgates.
May you like
Beatrice looked at her trembling husband, who had collapsed onto the bottom step of the grand staircase, weeping softly into his hands. She felt no pity, only a cold, profound liberation. The house of cards had fallen, and for the first time in her life, she was standing in the ruins without fear.
***
