Chapter 5 - The Tables Turn Upstairs
Upstairs in the luxury hallway, the atmosphere had shifted from tense panic to a cold, calculated standoff. Elena lowered the baby gently into the silk-lined vintage bassinet near the console before reaching deep into the pocket of her gray maid uniform.
Clara gasped, stumbling backward until her shoulder blades hit the marble wall. Her manicured hands flew to her mouth. "You... you're not just a maid."
Elena pulled out a sleek, government-issue firearm with practiced, steady efficiency. Her posture changed entirely, the humble domestic worker instantly vanishing, replaced by a hardened professional operative.
"Mrs. Vance," Elena said, her voice devoid of its previous warmth. "Domestic service is a fantastic cover for counter-intelligence surveillance. Especially when dealing with international corporate espionage rings like the one you and Mr. Sterling set up."
Clara’s eyes darted frantically toward the stairs. "Julian is down there with Marcus. Marcus has the flash drive. You can't stop all of us."
"Mr. Vance is perfectly capable of handling a desk jockey like Marcus," Elena replied calmly, keeping the barrel of the gun leveled precisely at Clara’s chest. "My orders are to secure you, recover the stolen assets, and ensure that little Lily never spends another second in a toxic environment."
Clara’s sophisticated mask completely dissolved. She slid down the marble wall, her stained beige silk dress bunching up around her knees. Tears of pure frustration and fear spilled over her cheeks, ruining her makeup. "You don't understand. If Marcus goes down, our creditors will kill us. We owe millions to syndicates in Zurich. We had no choice!"
"Everyone always has a choice, Mrs. Vance," Elena said softly, stepping closer. "You chose greed. You chose to endanger an innocent child."
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Before Clara could lunge toward the grand staircase to scream for help, the basement door flew open with a resounding crash. Julian marched up the steps, his face dark as thunder, dragging a handcuffed Marcus behind him by the collar of his tweed jacket.
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