Chapter 9
The revelation hung in the damp air of the vault like a physical blade. Julian stared at the tarnished brass key in Lily's small hand, his mind racing through a maze of impossible truths and buried lies. The official records had stated that David Vance died in a fiery car crash in Zurich. Yet his own seven-year-old daughter, locked away in a secret subterranean room, was claiming David was still somehow connected to the shadows creeping through the estate.
"What did you say about David, Lily?" Julian demanded, his voice dangerously sharp as he leaned closer, ignoring the suffocating tightness in his chest.
Before Lily could answer, a sharp metallic clang echoed through the concrete corridors outside the vault door. It sounded like a heavy iron grate being forced open from the lower drainage shafts. Julian snapped his head toward the open doorway, his survival instincts kicking in instantly. He stood up with lethal speed, his broad shoulders blocking the exit.
"Stay here," Julian commanded Elena and Lily, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He drew a heavy-caliber firearm from the concealed holster beneath his white shirt, the cold steel catching the dim light of the overhead bulb. Elena pulled Lily into a protective embrace, her eyes wide with terror as Julian stepped out into the dark, dripping hallway. The air down here tasted of metallic rust and impending violence.
The corridor stretched into pitch blackness toward the old service ladder that led directly down to the storm drains beneath the Vance estate. Footsteps splashed softly against the standing water—heavy, deliberate, and moving away from them with calculated stealth. Julian moved like a predator, his heavy boots making no sound against the wet concrete as he stalked the unseen intruder through the suffocating gloom.
"Show yourself," Julian barked, his voice echoing off the curved stone ceiling.
May you like
A low, raspy chuckle echoed back from the darkness, followed by the metallic scrape of a lighter sparking against flint. In the sudden flash of orange flame, Julian saw a familiar face standing near the drain grate—a face that belonged to a man who was supposed to be locked inside a maximum-security psychiatric ward three counties over.
Ethan stood there holding a burning match, his eyes burning with manic triumph as he stared straight down the barrel of Julian's gun.
