Chapter 2 - The Midnight BlackoutThe silence that followed Renata’s departure from the basement was heavier than the concrete walls surrounding us. As the fading echoes of her heels clicked back up the stairs toward the glittering New Year’s Eve party, I stepped out from behind the storage racks.
Sebastián was shivering violently, his chest heaving as he fought to swallow the pain.
“Dad... you have to get out of here,” he gasped, his eyes darting toward the staircase. “Renata’s father... he has armed security outside. Former mercenaries. If they find you—'
“They won't find anything except their own undoing,” I interrupted quietly. I slid the heavy industrial bolt cutters over the iron chain binding him to the pillar. With a single, powerful squeeze of my weathered hands, the hardened steel link snapped like brittle glass.
Sebastián collapsed forward, and I caught him before he hit the concrete, easing his battered frame down.
Upstairs, the synchronized roar of the wealthy guests reached its climax.
Three!
Two!
One!
Happy New Year!
Poppers exploded, champagne corks flew, and music swelled through the ceiling speakers.
At that exact second, every light in the magnificent mansion flickered once—and died completely.
Total, pitch-black darkness swallowed the party upstairs, instantly turning the joyous shouts into confused murmurs. Simultaneously, every smart lock, motorized gate, and reinforced exterior door across the estate clicked shut with a definitive, mechanical lock.
Outside on the perimeter roads, the heavy iron security gates that protected Renata’s family from the outside world swung shut under remote override, their hydraulic motors whining in the winter night.
In the cellar, Sebastián looked up at me in absolute disbelief. “What... what just happened?”
“The power grid of this estate runs on a private relay connected to a local transport warehouse,” I said calmly, slipping off my worn jacket to reveal a tailored dark tactical vest underneath. “A warehouse that my old logistics network built, wired, and maintained. Right now, every camera, phone tower jammer, and security panel within a five-mile radius is looping prerecorded feeds. No one is calling the police. No one is getting out.”
Before Sebastián could reply, heavy footsteps rushed down the basement stairs.
Two armed guards, dressed in sleek black tactical gear with suppressed submachine guns raised, burst into the cellar. They scanned the dim space with night-vision scopes, their lasers cutting green lines through the dust.
“What the hell happened to the power?” the lead guard barked, stepping toward the shelving units. “Check the—'
He didn't finish the sentence.
I moved from the shadows with a speed that defied my sixty-nine years. In a single fluid motion, I swept his legs out from under him, disarmed his weapon, and brought the butt of the rifle down across his temple with calculated precision. He slumped to the concrete floor without making a sound.
The second guard whirled around, his weapon leveling at my chest, but Sebastián—surging on adrenaline and paternal fury—reached up from the floor and grabbed the guard's ankle, jerking hard. The man lost his footing, tumbling backward down the stairs. I caught him mid-air, silenced him with a swift chokehold, and gently lowered him beside his partner.
I turned back to my son, pulling a medical tourniquet and a roll of sterile gauze from my tactical pouch.
“Can you stand if I support your weight?” I asked, kneeling beside him.
May you like
Sebastián nodded grimly, gritting his teeth as I strapped the tourniquet tight above his injured knee to stem the internal bleeding. “I have to. I want to see Renata’s face when she realizes who you really are.”
“Oh, she’s going to find out,” I said softly, my eyes narrowing as I checked the magazine of the guard’s suppressed rifle. “Upstairs, the party is about to learn what happens when you steal from a ghost.”
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