Chapter 10 - The Midnight Visitor
The doorbell chimed a second time, cutting through the silence of the storm-lashed house like a knife. Clara and Marcus froze in the center of the guest bedroom, their eyes locked in mutual terror. It was 3:15 AM. Nobody in their right mind visited a suburban residence at this hour unless it was an emergency—or an executioner.
"Stay here," Marcus whispered frantically, his hand gripping the doorknob. "I'll go down and see who it is. If it's one of Beatrice's associates, you lock this door and don't open it for anyone."
"Don't be an idiot, Marcus," Clara hissed, grabbing his arm with surprising strength. "If it's her fixer, opening that door is a death sentence. We go together, or we wake Leo and get out through the second-story balcony window right now."
Before Marcus could answer, heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed from the downstairs hallway. Someone had unlocked the front door using a master key and stepped inside. The floorboards creaked under wet shoes, moving with slow, methodical precision toward the base of the grand wooden staircase.
Clara’s heart pounded against her ribs. She pulled the USB flash drive from her pocket and slipped it securely into the lining of her sock, out of sight.
"Marcus?" a voice called out from the foyer below. It wasn't Beatrice. It was a man's voice—deep, gravelly, and entirely unfamiliar. "Are you awake down there? The package from the northern district has arrived."
Marcus turned pale as a sheet. He looked at Clara with sheer panic in his eyes. "It's Viktor," he whispered. "Beatrice’s head of security. He's not supposed to be back from the state line until tomorrow afternoon."
The footsteps on the wooden stairs began to ascend, slow and rhythmic. Creak... creak... creak... exactly matching the cadence of the nightmare that had started it all on that very same staircase days ago.
"Marcus! Clara!" Beatrice’s voice suddenly rang out from the opposite end of the second-floor hallway, her bedroom door clicking open. She must have been awake the entire time, coordinating the midnight arrival from her suite. "Do be a dear and come out to the landing. We have a late-night guest who needs a signature on final transport papers."
Clara didn't hesitate. She grabbed Marcus by the sleeve of his black shirt, pulling him backward away from the door and toward the adjoining nursery where little Leo was still fast asleep in his crib.
"We're not going out there," Clara whispered fiercely, her eyes blazing with adrenaline. "We're getting Leo out through the window."
"Clara, the drop is twenty feet onto stone pavers," Marcus protested, his voice shaking. "We'll break our legs."
"It's better than a grave," Clara snapped, throwing open the nursery door.
The room was bathed in the soft blue glow of a star projector illuminating Leo's ceiling. The toddler was fast asleep in his crib, clutching his blue blanket. But as Clara rushed toward the window, the door behind them swung open with a loud bang, flooding the nursery with harsh hallway light.
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Viktor stood in the doorway, a tall, imposing figure in a dark trench coat, blocking the only exit from the room.
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