Chapter 3 - LockdownChaos erupted in an instant. Bankers and investors stampeded toward the grand front doors, only to crash into heavy, reinforced steel security shutters that had slammed down over every exit with a thunderous metallic thud. Alarms began to wail, flashing strobe lights painting the ballroom in a frantic, pulsating crimson.
“Everyone stay calm!” Detective Miller bellowed, drawing his service weapon as the federal marshal rushed to secure the perimeter doors. “Get away from the glass! Security protocol is in effect!”
Matthias grabbed Serena’s arm, his fingers digging in with panicked desperation. “Serena! What is happening? Who did this?”
Serena yanked her arm free, glaring at him with icy disdain. “Take your hands off me, Matthias. You brought us into this lion's den. Your shady overseas deals with the Vanguard Syndicate—they’re the ones who sent the warning note to my lawyer three days ago.”
Matthias recoiled as if struck. “The Vanguard Syndicate? How do you know about them?”
“Because unlike you, I actually read your mail before you shredded it,” Serena snapped, shielding her abdomen as a fresh wave of panic rippled through the panicked crowd.
Across the room, Fiona Vale was in hysterics, sobbing uncontrollably as she clawed at the locked windows, while Marcus Dre—the formidable patriarch of the family empire—emerged from the private elevator at the back of the ballroom, his face purple with rage.
“Matthias!” Marcus roared, pushing his way through the terrified throngs of investors. “What the hell is the meaning of this? The estate security mainframe has been overridden! Someone has locked down the entire compound!”
“It’s not my fault, Dad!” Matthias stammered, sweating profusely despite the freezing air leaking from the broken HVAC vents. “It’s... it’s a hostile takeover!”
“It’s a bomb threat,” Detective Miller corrected grimly, stepping away from his radio as static hissed through the receiver. “Cell service is jammed. Landlines are dead. We are completely isolated.”
Serena’s heart hammered against her ribs. The anonymous note she had received flashed vividly in her mind: Collateral losses within acceptable parameters.
Whoever had infiltrated the Dre estate wasn't just after Matthias’s embezzled millions. They intended to burn the entire corrupt dynasty to the ground—and sixty innocent guests were trapped inside with them.
“We need to get to the security annex in the basement,” Serena said, her trauma nurse instincts overriding the terror clawing at her throat. “It has an independent analog phone line that bypasses the digital mainframe.”
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“How do you know about the basement annex?” Marcus Dre demanded, squinting at his daughter-in-law in disbelief.
“Because Matthias locked me out of it last month when he was downloading files,” Serena fired back without missing a beat. “Now follow me, or stay here and be collateral damage.”
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