Adrian's heart thundered in his ears as the armed guards closed the circle. The steel folder pressed against his chest felt impossibly heavy, loaded with the future of every person he cared about. Bianca's voice echoed from the shadows, crisp and unyielding.
"Choose," she commanded. "Prove your devotion, or let them pay."
He raised his hands, cradling the folder. His eyes flicked over the guards' stoic faces—professional killers, loyal to Bianca above all else. He swallowed, forcing words past the lump in his throat.
"I choose my family," he said, his voice steady. He locked eyes with Bianca. "Release them."
She stepped forward, her silhouette sharp against the dim hallway light. She tapped a guard's shoulder. The soldier lowered his weapon. Two others remained, watching with cold efficiency.
Bianca's lips curved. "Well spoken. But devotion means sacrifice." She motioned to the iron door. "Leave the proof here."
Adrian's chest tightened. The hallway's silence oppressed him. He felt Noah's small drawing—clutched in Bianca's other hand—like an accusation. He took a step back.
"No," he said. "The proof stays with me." He looked at the folder, then at Bianca. "Without it, you destroy everything you claim to protect."
She laughed, a slow, vicious sound. "You think you have the upper hand? My men will kill you both." She tapped the folder with her heel. "Leave it or die."
Adrian glanced toward the closed portrait door. He pictured Celeste and Noah hiding just beyond, waiting, helpless. He willed his mind to calm—strategy over panic. He had to buy time.
His voice dropped. "Let me go talk to her. Alone."
Bianca's gaze sharpened. "I like that idea. But only if you drop the folder at the threshold. Then you enter. Then—"
Adrian nodded. He sighed, then extended the steel folder on outstretched arms. Two guards stepped forward as he relinquished the proof. His pulse throbbed in his temples.
A guard seized the folder and backed away. The guard who held Noah's drawing locked eyes with Adrian and offered a twisted salute. Bianca's grin widened. She held up her hand.
"Now."
Adrian lowered his arms and stepped behind the guard. His hands rose into the air, the language of surrender.
Bianca held out the drawing. "Bring me his father's promise."
Adian tugged at his jacket until he revealed a small engraved pin pinned to his lapel—a keepsake he had worn on every business trip and social event with Celeste. He unclasped it and held it out.
"This?" he asked.
Bianca's eyes flicked to the tiny silver crest. She snatched it. She examined the engraving—Adrian's initials entwined with a delicate vine. She tucked it into her pocket.
"Now go."
Adrian backed away, hands still raised. The two remaining guards trailed behind him to the closed portrait wall. They opened it without ceremony and seized the folder and the drawing.
Adrian ducked as the portrait swung shut. The hallway plunged into darkness except for the guards' moving silhouettes. He turned and sprinted toward the base of the stairs.
He paused at the service entry where he had left Celeste and Carmen. The heavy door creaked as he opened it.
The corridor outside was empty. Adrian exhaled. He swallowed hard and wiped sweat from his brow. He listened. No footsteps.
He found Celeste kneeling beside Noah on the floor, comforting him. Carmen crouched by them, casting a worried glance at the service door.
They looked up at his breathless figure. Celeste's eyes filled with relief. She rose.
"How did it go?" she whispered.
He reached out and cupped her face. His thumb brushed tears on her cheek. "I did what she asked."
She stared at him, heart pounding. "And?"
He shook his head. "But I know it's a trap."
Carmen stood. "We need to move now." She glanced at the locked portrait behind him. "She'll come after us next."
Adrian scooped Noah into his arms. The boy's eyes pressed closed against a yawn.
"Let's go," Celeste said, taking Carmen's hand.
They slipped into the corridor. Adrian paused at the painting of Bianca's mother. He pressed the latch, but it wouldn't budge.
Carmen shone her flashlight at the wall. "It's locked from the other side."
Adrian cursed under his breath. His eyes darted down the corridor. The distant rumble of voices drifted toward them—the guards returning.
He guided them to the servants' stairwell. They sprinted up three flights until they reached a balcony overlooking the grand hall.
From the railing, they watched Bianca on the dais, speaking calmly to the captured guards. She held the folder and drawing triumphantly, as though they were trophies.
"...and if they do not return, their blood will stain these floors," she was saying. Her voice carried easily across the marble expanse.
Below, Adrian's father, Victor, sat on an ornate chair, looking older and frailer than Adrian remembered. The scandal had undone him. His eyes were hollow, his posture slumped.
Adrian's breath hitched. Celeste wrapped her arms around his waist.
"I can't leave him," Adrian whispered.
Celeste placed a hand over his heart. "We'll come back."
Carmen pointed to a service door beside the dais. "That backs onto the kitchen. If we can reach it, we can free your father."
Adrian nodded. He lifted Noah. "Stay here. Carmen, lead the way."
Carmen opened a small side door, and he slipped inside, setting Noah down gently on a counter near the prep kitchen's window.
The room was stocked with pots and pans, a warming oven, and a steel countertop. He motioned to the door. Carmen pressed against it, forcing it open just enough.
They slipped out into the back hall. Beyond lay armed kitchen staff—uniformed and ruthless. They spotted Adrian and raised knives.
He held up a hand, breathing thick.
"Adrian!" Celeste's voice snapped through the hall. She stood in the doorway, holding Noah. Her eyes blazed.
The staff froze, startled by her presence.
Adrian stepped forward. "He's my son."
Celeste's voice rang clear. "And I am his mother."
Two staffers lowered their blades. Carmen edged forward behind them.
Suddenly, guards barreled around the corner. The staff fled. Adrian pulled Celeste and Noah back into the kitchen.
The door closed, locking itself.
Adrian pressed his ear against the wood. He heard footsteps approaching. He felt Celeste press her body against his back.
Noah pressed his face into Celeste's gown.
Carmen exhaled. "We're out of time."
Adrian braced his shoulder against the door. He looked at Celeste. "Get him out the window."
Celeste scanned the high window—too small.
He kissed her temple. "Go through the pantry."
She nodded, cradling Noah. She followed Carmen through a swinging door into a narrow pantry. Beyond, the wall opened into a storage passage leading outside.
They vanished into the darkness.
Adrian turned back to the door. The footsteps were right outside.
He gripped the handle and took a deep breath.
The door burst in.
And he faced Bianca's cold smile once more.