Chapter 2 - The Silent Witness
The security room smelled of stale coffee and electronic ozone.
Marcus, the head of security, stared at the screen as if it might burn him.
He knew what Victoria Thorne was capable of.
He had seen the way she treated the household staff—as disposable components in a machine that only she was allowed to operate.
But attempted murder?
This was a new, darker chapter in the Thorne family saga.
He picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over the contact for the local authorities, then he stopped.
If he went to the police, Victoria would have his head.
She owned the police, the local council, and half the judges in the county.
He had to be smarter.
He exported the footage to an encrypted drive, his hands moving with the precision of a man who knew he was walking a tightrope.
Back in the main hall, Emily sat on the velvet sofa, her hands trembling as she drank water that tasted like copper.
Arthur and Victoria were in the study, their voices rising in a sharp, guttural argument.
"You’re going to get us both killed, Victoria!" Arthur hissed.
"She’s a weakling, Arthur. She wouldn't have survived the fall anyway."
Emily heard every word.
The walls were thin, and her heart was shattered.
She had hoped for a family, for love, but all she found was a nest of vipers.
She stood up, her belly heavy and aching, and navigated the hallway toward the servant’s entrance.
She needed to leave.
She couldn't stay here, not when the air itself felt poisonous.
But Marcus was waiting in the hallway.
He didn't speak; he simply pressed a small, cold object into her hand.
It was the encrypted drive.
"They won't let you leave," he whispered, his eyes darting toward the study door.
"Why are you helping me?" she asked, her voice a fragile reed.
"Because I have a daughter, Emily. And I know what it’s like to be prey."
He turned and disappeared into the shadows, a ghost in the house of monsters.
Emily looked down at the drive.
It was small, light, and held the power to bring an empire to its knees.
She had to get out, but Victoria wasn't the kind of person who let loose ends walk away.
She had already locked the gates.
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The mansion was no longer a home.
It was a cage.
