Chapter 5
Ethan’s polished leather shoes made a heavy, rhythmic sound against the hardwood floor as he turned away from Vanessa. He looked down at Lucy, who was still kneeling faithfully by the brass floor vent. The beautiful maid looked up at him, her heart-shaped face pale but filled with an undeniable, quiet courage.
"Will you show me the way to the kitchen door, Lucy?" Ethan asked, his voice softening just a fraction, acknowledging the bravery of a woman who was usually easily intimidated.
"Yes, Mr. Blackwell," Lucy said quickly, scrambling to her feet and smoothing down her black maid dress. She threw one last terrified glance at Vanessa, who was sobbing quietly against the ivory-paneled wall, before leading Ethan out of the dining room.
They moved swiftly through the sprawling mansion, leaving the warm, golden light of the cascading crystal chandeliers behind. The corridors grew narrower and dimmer as they approached the servant's quarters. Ethan’s mind was a fortress of calculated rage. His wife, Claire, had been beneath his feet for months. Every dinner party, every business meeting, she had been buried alive while the woman beside him poured champagne.
As they turned the corner toward the heavy oak door leading to the cellar, two armed guards in dark suits immediately straightened up, their hands resting cautiously near their holsters. These were the men Vanessa had bought.
"Is there a problem, Boss?" the taller guard asked, his eyes darting nervously between Ethan and the heavy iron key resting in his tattooed hand.
"Did you men enjoy the bonus my fiancé paid you to guard this door?" Ethan asked. He did not slow his pace, marching directly toward them with broad, powerful shoulders squared for violence.
The guards exchanged a panicked look. They realized instantly that the secret was out. The shorter guard drew his weapon, a fatal miscalculation fueled by sheer terror.
"Do you really think you can draw on me in my own house?" Ethan asked.
Before the guard could raise the barrel, Ethan moved with lethal, blinding speed. He seized the man’s wrist, twisting it violently until the bone snapped with a sickening crack. The gun clattered to the floor. With his other hand, Ethan delivered a crushing blow to the taller guard's throat, sending him collapsing against the wall, gasping for air.
Within seconds, both traitors were incapacitated, groaning on the floor. Ethan casually adjusted the cuffs of his dark three-piece suit, entirely unbored by the brief exertion.
"Lucy, will you pick up his weapon and ensure they do not follow us?" Ethan asked, nodding toward the dropped gun.
Lucy’s eyes widened, but her delicate cheekbones set in fierce determination. She picked up the heavy firearm, her slender hands wrapping around the grip, and aimed it unsteadily at the two bleeding men.
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"I won't let them move, sir," Lucy promised, her voice shaking but resolute.
"Are you ready to see the sun again, Claire?" Ethan whispered to the heavy iron door as he slid the antique key into the rusted lock. The mechanism clicked heavily, and Ethan pulled the door open, revealing a steep, terrifyingly dark stone staircase descending into the abyss.
