Chapter 10
The heavy silence in the vault was broken only by the steady hum of the server racks and the final chime of the laptop: 100% Transfer Complete.
Elena quickly snatched the steel drive from the USB port, slipping it into the lining of her torn gold dress just as Marcus recovered his composure. He stared at Eleanor, his face twisting in confusion and disbelief.
“Mrs. Vance, Mr. Vance’s orders supersede yours,” Marcus said, his voice tightening with suspicion. “Step aside. That woman has stolen company property.”
“Arthur is a desperate, broken man who is destroying everything my husband built,” Eleanor replied, her voice unwavering as she gripped the iron poker tighter. “I built this empire by his side before he lost his mind to greed. You think I don't know every clause in the corporate charter? If I order you to stand down, your pension and your freedom depend on obeying me right now.”
Marcus hesitated, weighing his options between an absent Arthur and a fiercely vindictive matriarch who knew every skeleton in the closet. The two guards looked to Marcus for direction, their flashlights wavering.
Elena didn't wait for them to make up their minds. She darted past Marcus, shoving him hard in the back, and bolted for the open vault door.
“Catch her!” Marcus roared, shaking off his hesitation.
The two guards lunged forward, but Eleanor swung the heavy iron poker with surprising force, catching the first guard squarely across the shins. He howled in pain, collapsing to the floor. The second guard grabbed Eleanor’s arm, trying to disarm her, but Elena turned back, grabbing a heavy metal file box from the desk and hurling it directly into the guard’s chest. He stumbled backward, releasing Eleanor.
“Run, Elena! Get to Clara!” Eleanor screamed, panting heavily as she wrestled with the guard.
Elena didn't look back. She sprinted up the spiral stone staircase, her breath burning her lungs as she climbed the dark, endless steps toward the upper floors. Her mind raced with a single terrifying thought: Clara was still locked in the nursery alone.
When Elena finally burst out of the secret study and slammed the painting shut behind her, the hallway outside was empty. She raced down the corridor, her bare feet slapping against the runner, until she reached the heavy oak door of the nursery.
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She grabbed the brass handle and twisted it, but it didn't turn. It had been deadbolted from the outside again.
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