Chapter 10 - Locked from Within
The heavy iron deadbolts ground into their metal frames with a final, definitive click that echoed through the cavernous foyer like a gunshot. Elena stared at the locked mahogany doors, her breath catching in her throat. She reached out with a trembling hand, jiggling the brass handle, but it remained stubbornly immovable.
"The security system," Elena whispered, her voice tight with panic. "Someone just overrode the master console from the panic room."
Lorenzo didn’t waste time testing the door. He turned sharply on his heel, his eyes scanning the grand hallway before locking onto the ornate, floor-to-ceiling grandfather clock against the eastern wall. The heavy brass pendulum had stopped swinging, frozen mid-arc.
"Marcus didn't come here alone," Lorenzo said, his voice dropping into a low, tactical register. He raised his weapon once more, keeping it pointed at the floor at a ready angle. "And he didn't break in. He was already inside the house before the power went out."
Clara hurried out from the auxiliary hallway, clutching a heavy silver candelabra like a club, her face pale with terror. "Mr. Vance! The kitchen telephone lines are completely dead. And the service elevator—it’s moving. Someone is descending from the upper third-floor archives."
Lorenzo didn't blink. "Clara, get behind me. Elena, stay where you are."
"Lorenzo, listen to me," Elena pleaded, taking a desperate step toward him, her white dress stained with dust from the study floor. "Marcus has been blackmailing me! He found out about the offshore accounts three months ago. He threatened to ruin you and expose my family's past debts if I didn't funnel those funds into his shell company. I wasn't plotting against you—I was trying to pay him off to keep him away from you!"
Lorenzo paused, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked down at her. "You expect me to believe you became a criminal out of devotion to my peace of mind?"
"It’s the truth!" Elena sobbed, real tears finally breaking through, tracking clean lines down her dust-stained cheeks. "Look at the dates on those transfers! They started right after Marcus discovered the Zurich medical files. He used my sister as leverage against both of us!"
Before Lorenzo could weigh her desperate confession, the heavy iron door of the service elevator at the end of the hall dinged softly. The sliding metal gate ground open with a harsh screech of ungreased hinges, revealing a dark, empty interior—and a single, blood-stained envelope resting on the floor of the car.
Lorenzo motioned for Clara to stay back, stepping cautiously toward the open elevator shaft. He crouched down, picked up the envelope with the barrel of his gun, and slit the paper open. Inside was a single photograph and a handwritten note.
Lorenzo pulled the photo out into the light. His entire body went rigid, the color draining entirely from his face.
The photograph showed his sister, wide-awake and terrified, sitting in a wheelchair inside a room they didn't recognize—with Marcus standing right behind her, holding a silver pocket watch to her throat.
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Across the bottom of the photo, written in bold red ink, were four words: Check the master safe.
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