Chapter 7 - The Hidden Passage
Helena did not flinch as the secret door swung open, revealing her son standing in the dim light with rage etched into every line of his face. She adjusted the collar of her black top, her expression as stern and immovable as a marble monument.
“You were always too clever for your own good, Julian,” Helena said, her voice echoing down the narrow brick corridor. “Just like your father. He thought he could outsmart the family destiny, and look where it got him.”
“You killed him,” Julian said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, quiet whisper. He took a step forward into the narrow passageway, his fists clenched at his sides. “The official autopsy said heart failure. But it was you, wasn't it? Just like you tried to poison Clara tonight.”
“Your father grew weak in his old age. He wanted to rewrite the wills, to leave everything to charities and distant relatives just because he felt a sudden pang of guilt,” Helena retorted, taking a slow step back down the corridor without showing an ounce of fear. “I protected this family. I built this dynasty brick by brick when there was nothing left. I will not let some nameless girl destroy four decades of sacrifice for a child that doesn't even belong in our lineage.”
“She is my wife! And that is my child!” Julian roared, lunging forward down the brick hallway.
Before Julian could reach her, Helena slammed a heavy iron lever on the wall beside her. With a grinding screech of heavy chains and old gears, a massive steel portcullis dropped from the ceiling between them, crashing into the stone floor with deafening force and cutting off Julian’s path.
“Julian!” Elena screamed from inside the study, her voice frantic as she tried to pull Clara away from the spreading chemical gas. “Mr. Vance, come back! Mrs. Clara is losing consciousness!”
Julian slammed his fists against the cold iron bars of the portcullis, watching as his mother turned her back and walked slowly away down the dimly lit tunnel, the gas canister clanking softly against her leg with every step.
“Mother! Open this gate!” Julian shouted, rattling the heavy iron bars until his hands bled. He knew the structural integrity of the old estate better than anyone; this hidden corridor connected directly to the underground wine cellar, which looped back around to the main service elevator.
He spun around and raced back into the study. The air was thick with the sweet, cloying gas, making every breath burn his lungs. Elena was kneeling beside the sofa, struggling to lift Clara into the wheelchair, but Clara was limp, her breathing dangerously shallow.
“Get the wet towel from the bathroom, Elena! Block the bottom of the door!” Julian commanded, scooping Clara up into his arms.
“There’s no time for the bathroom, Mr. Vance! Look at the window shutters!” Elena shouted, pointing across the room.
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Julian followed her gaze. Through the narrow slats of the locked security shutters, a flicker of amber light danced against the opposite wall. Outside in the courtyard, thick black smoke was beginning to billow upward, smelling sharply of burning timber and gasoline.
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