Chapter 4 - The Lockdown
Panic exploded inside the grand foyer.
Gowned women gasped and pulled back, while men in tuxedos began shouting over one another, rushing toward the heavy front doors.
“Quiet!” Marcus Vance’s voice bellowed across the room like a crack of thunder, echoing off the vaulted ceilings. “Nobody run! My troopers have secured the perimeter, but the estate is officially under emergency quarantine until the bomb squad clears the west wing!”
Arthur Dre grabbed his chest, staggering backward against a marble column. His wife, Victoria, rushed to his side, her diamond earrings shaking as she supported her husband.
“Matthias...” Arthur rasped, his eyes filled with betrayal as he looked at his son. “What have you done? What have you brought into my house?”
Matthias backed away, his hands held up in surrender, his eyes darting wildly like a trapped animal. “Dad, I didn't know! I swear to God I didn't know about the bomb! I thought she was just helping me move money into a private account so I could start my own firm!”
“You idiot!” Arthur roared, his face turning purple. “You traded your family, your pregnant wife, and my life’s work for a criminal whore!”
Fiona Vale let out a sharp, cold laugh from near the hallway archway. “Oh, save the moral indignation, Arthur! You built this entire empire on stolen patents and black-market land deals thirty years ago! I didn't invent corporate terrorism—I just learned it from watching you!”
“Shut up!” Matthias screamed, lunging toward Fiona.
Trooper Hayes caught Matthias by the shoulders, shoving him hard back into a leather armchair near the fireplace. “Sit down, Mr. Dre! Move again and you’ll be placed in hand restraints!”
I stood near the center of the room, my breathing heavy as a sharp pang ripped through my lower back. I leaned against the heavy wooden dining table, placing both hands over my abdomen.
My unborn daughter kicked violently against my hand.
“Serena?” Marcus Vance was at my side in an instant, his stern demeanor melting into genuine concern. “Are you alright? Are you having contractions?”
“I’m... I’m okay,” I gasped, gritting my teeth as the pressure eased slightly. “Just Braxton Hicks... the stress is getting to her.”
“Sit down,” Marcus ordered gently, pulling a plush chair over for me. He looked at Trooper Hayes. “Get the tactical paramedic in here right now to check on Mrs. Dre!”
Across the room, Fiona’s eyes narrowed as she watched the commotion around me. Sensing the guards’ attention shifting momentarily toward my medical state, she slowly slid her right hand into the hidden pocket of her ivory evening gown.
She pulled out a small, sleek black device no larger than a key fob.
A secondary remote trigger.
I saw the glint of plastic in her fingers.
“Marcus!” I yelled, pointing at her hand. “The trigger!”
Fiona didn't hesitate. She slammed her thumb down on the central red button.
May you like
A deep, deafening explosion rocked the foundations of the mansion. The glass in the tall arched windows shattered inward, showering the grand room with sparkling shards. The crystal chandelier above swung violently, its heavy chain screeching as dust and plaster rained down from the ceiling.
The lights flickered violently and died, plunging the fifty-thousand-square-foot estate into pitch darkness, save for the blood-red glow of the emergency exit signs and the flickering flames of the grand fireplace.
