Chapter 6
The sprawling Vance estate was designed as a fortress disguised as a classical European manor, complete with winding corridors, hidden service staircases, and private studies sealed behind biometric locks. Elena navigated the maze-like hallways of the second floor, her silk heels clicking softly against the antique runners. Behind her, she could hear the faint, rhythmic footsteps of the assigned guard maintaining a steady, unyielding pursuit.
She ducked into an alcove lined with ancestral portraits, pressing her back against the cool wood paneling as the guard’s footsteps passed just outside the threshold. Her heart pounded against her ribs like a drumbeat in an empty cathedral. Peering cautiously around the heavy velvet drapery, she watched the man in the black suit continue down the corridor toward the west wing, his hand brushing against his holster.
When the hallway was empty, Elena sprinted toward Arthur’s private study at the end of the hall. It was a restricted zone, forbidden to everyone, including family members. But she knew from her months working as Arthur’s administrative assistant that his private terminal possessed a direct, unfiltered uplink to the corporate mainframe—and more importantly, an unencrypted port capable of bypassing the estate’s local firewall.
She reached the heavy mahogany door and pressed her palm against the optical scanner beside the frame. A red light flashed menacingly, accompanied by a sharp electronic beep.
"Access denied," a mechanical voice intoned quietly from the intercom.
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Elena swore softly under her breath. Arthur must have revoked her biometric clearance the moment he suspected her betrayal in the ballroom. She had less than thirty seconds before the guard realized she wasn't in the west wing and retraced his steps. Desperate, she reached into the small hidden pocket sewn into the lining of her dark blue dress and pulled out a small, magnetic bypass key she had stolen from Arthur’s desk two nights prior.
She slid the key down the magnetic strip beside the scanner. The LED light flickered from red to amber, humming with static. With a soft click, the heavy deadbolts retracted inside the door frame. Without hesitation, she slipped inside the dark, oak-paneled study and slammed the door shut, locking it from the inside just as hurried footsteps echoed outside in the corridor.
