"Thirty-two weeks pregnant, I watched my husband walk into his family's Christmas party with his mistress wearing a stolen diamond necklace. Then I told him I brought someone too—and his face went pale." / Chapter 4 / 7

Chapter 4 - Descent into the Sub-LevelsGuarded by Detective Miller and the federal marshal, Serena led a small group—consisting of a shivering Matthias, a panicked Fiona, and a grim Marcus Dre—down the narrow service stairwell leading away from the glittering ballroom. The festive holiday music was replaced by the damp, echoing chill of the estate's subterranean levels.

Every breath Serena took burned her lungs. Braxton contractions tightened across her abdomen, a sharp reminder that stress was pushing her body toward premature labor. She pressed a hand against her belly, whispering silent reassurances to her daughter. Hold on, little one. Not yet.

“This is insane,” Fiona whimpered, hugging her bare shoulders beneath the ruins of her ivory evening gown. “Why are we down here in the dark? Matthias, do something!”

“Shut up, Fiona!” Matthias hissed, his arrogance entirely evaporated, replaced by a sniveling, desperate cowardice. He stumbled on the concrete stairs, nearly dragging his father down with him.

Marcus Dre shoved his son away in disgust. “Get a grip, Matthias. You brought this disaster upon our family with your illegal backroom dealings with Vanguard. If we make it out of this alive, I’m stripping you of every single cent and share you own.”

Matthias opened his mouth to protest, but a sudden, violent shudder shook the foundations of the mansion above them.

BOOM.

A muffled explosion echoed from the west wing of the estate, followed by the sound of shattering glass and heavy falling timber. Wisps of acrid grey smoke began to drift down the stairwell, stinging their eyes and catching in their throats.

“They’ve breached the upper conservatory!” the federal marshal shouted, unholstering his firearm as he took point at the head of the group. “Move, move, move!”

They burst through the heavy fire door at the bottom of the stairs into the subterranean utility corridor. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, buzzing hysterically before plunging half the hallway into total darkness.

Serena pulled a small tactical flashlight from her coat pocket—an item she had carried ever since walking out on Matthias’s cold indifference weeks ago. She swept the beam across the damp concrete walls until it caught the heavy steel door marked SEC-04: COMMUNICATIONS & SURVEILLANCE.

“Here,” Serena panted, her hand flying to her lower back as another contraction gripped her. “The analog line is inside.”

Detective Miller rushed forward, trying the heavy brass handle. It turned smoothly, but when he pushed it open, the beam of his flashlight revealed a horrific sight.

The room had been ransacked. Computer servers were smoldering in ruins, wires ripped out by the roots, and slumped over the main control console was the estate’s head of security, motionless, with a zip-tie binding his wrists and a dark stain spreading across his chest.

“He’s gone,” the marshal reported, checking the guard’s pulse. “Professionally executed. They’ve sabotaged the backup line too.”

Desperation clawed at the group. Matthias backed against the concrete wall, sliding down until he hit the floor, burying his face in his hands. “We’re dead. We’re all going to die here.”

“Shut up!” Serena snarled, stepping over the threshold into the ruined server room. Her eyes scanned the sparking wreckage, searching for the one thing the saboteurs might have missed. Her nursing training had taught her never to panic in a critical code-blue situation; this was no different.