Chapter 5 - Locked In
Julian sprang from his leather chair with athletic speed, rushing to the heavy wooden door and grabbing the brass handle. He threw his weight against it, but the door remained immovable. A heavy deadbolt had been slid into place from the outer hallway.
“Mother!” Julian shouted, slamming his fist against the solid oak panel. “Open this door immediately!”
From the other side, the muffled, calm voice of Helena filtered through the wood. “I am doing this for your own good, Julian. You are letting your emotions blind you to reality. That girl and her little helper have filled your head with nonsense. Stay inside, rest, and review the corporate files in your briefcase. We will discuss family matters in the morning, once you have regained your senses.”
“Open this door, or I will break it down!” Julian roared, bracing his shoulder against the panels.
“You can try, my boy, but those doors are reinforced oak with steel plating installed during your father’s security upgrades,” Helena’s voice faded away down the corridor, her footsteps clicking away with infuriating slowness until complete silence settled over the hallway.
Julian turned back to face the study, breathing heavily. He looked at Clara, who had frozen in her wheelchair, her face turning chalk white. Elena hurried over to the windows that overlooked the front courtyard. She pulled back the heavy velvet drapes and pushed against the glass.
“They’re locked too,” Elena said, her voice laced with rising panic. “Mrs. Vance had the security shutters lowered. We’re sealed inside.”
“She’s hiding something massive,” Julian muttered, pacing the length of the Persian rug. He stopped abruptly in front of his leather briefcase. He knelt down, popped the brass latches, and flung the lid open. “Mother thinks I’m distracted by work. She thinks I keep my life neatly compartmentalized. But she forgot why I was late coming home tonight.”
Clara clutched her stomach, wincing as a sharp contraction seemed to pass through her. “Julian… the baby… something is wrong. My stomach feels like fire.”
“Elena, help me get her to the sofa,” Julian commanded, rushing to his wife's side. Together, they lifted Clara out of the wheelchair and laid her carefully across the velvet-upholstered couch.
Elena rolled up Clara’s sleeve, gasping when she saw dark bruising blooming on her wrist where Helena had grabbed her earlier. “Mr. Vance, look at her skin. The bruising is turning dark purple already. That tonic wasn’t just a simple sedative.”
Julian reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick, manila folder stamped with a confidential attorney’s seal. He ripped the string tie open and pulled out a stack of yellowed documents marked Estate Audit: 1998. He tossed the financial papers aside until he found a hidden pocket inside the folder lining.
Inside was a handwritten ledger belonging to his late father, detailing every secret medical payout made by the Vance estate over the last thirty years. Julian flipped to the final page, his eyes scanning the ink until they landed on a familiar name.
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“My God,” Julian whispered, dropping the ledger as the lights in the study suddenly flickered and died, plunging them into pitch blackness.
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