Chapter 14
The heavy metal door at the end of the underground maintenance tunnel swung open with a slow, grinding screech, revealing a dimly lit subterranean bunker that smelled faintly of old paper, ozone, and damp concrete. Rows of dormant computer mainframes lined the walls, their cooling fans silent and dead, casting long, distorted shadows across the checkered floor.
Sarafina stepped through the threshold, her hand resting firmly on the leather journal inside her trench coat. Victoria followed closely behind, her tactical flashlight sweeping methodically across the corners of the cavernous room.
At the far end of the bunker, seated in a high-backed leather armchair beside a flickering desk lamp, an elderly figure waited in absolute stillness. The person was draped in a familiar gold beaded dress that caught the faint amber glow of the lamp, their face shrouded in the deep shadows of the room.
Sarafina stopped dead in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat as the figure slowly stood up and turned around to face them.
It wasn't a syndicate assassin. It wasn't an international arms dealer.
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It was Eleanor—Julian’s mother, standing tall and unyielding beneath the flickering light of the bunker, her expression e
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