Chapter 6
The heavy footsteps grew louder, thudding against the Persian runner in the grand hallway. Eleanor quickly stepped back into the shadows near the doorway, pulling her green sequined gown close to her body to avoid being seen by whoever was approaching. Elena clutched the brass key in her palm so hard the metal bit into her skin, anchoring her adrenaline-fueled panic.
“Stay under the bed, Clara, no matter what happens,” Elena whispered fiercely, pressing a quick kiss to her daughter’s forehead before pushing the trembling child toward the mattress.
The door swung wide open, slamming against the interior wall with a loud bang. Standing in the doorway was not Arthur, but Marcus, the estate’s head of security, his broad shoulders filling the frame. His eyes scanned the room with predatory precision, landing immediately on Elena, who stood protectively in front of the bed.
“Mrs. Vance,” Marcus said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “Mr. Vance requests your presence in the study immediately. Do not make this difficult.”
“Tell Arthur I am sleeping,” Elena replied, holding her ground, her voice trembling only slightly. “If he wants to speak with me, he can come up here himself.”
Marcus didn't blink. He took two slow, menacing steps into the room. “It wasn't a request, ma'am.”
Elena’s heart pounded against her ribs. She knew if she went to the study now, her chance at the vault key would vanish forever, and Arthur would lock her away for good. She needed a distraction, and she needed it immediately. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the porcelain water pitcher sitting on the vanity table. With a swift, calculated motion, Elena grabbed the heavy pitcher and hurled it directly at the antique mirror beside the door.
The mirror shattered into a thousand glittering shards with a deafening crash, showering the floor in white dust and reflective pieces. Marcus flinched, instinctively raising his arms to shield his face from the flying debris.
It was the only opening Elena needed. She darted past his massive frame, slipping out into the dimly lit hallway before he could grab her shoulder.
“Hey! Stop her!” Marcus roared, recovering instantly and heavy-footing it after her.
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Elena sprinted down the corridor, the gold sequins of her dress catching the dim wall sconces like flashes of fire, heading straight for Arthur’s study at the opposite end of the sprawling estate.
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