Chapter 2 - Emergency lights flashed red through the house.I drew my weapon before the second alarm finished sounding.

“Everyone down!”

Marco shouted into his radio.

“Basement breach! Basement breach!”

Ava pulled Harper toward the floor.

Claire stayed standing.

That bothered me.

“You,” I snapped.

She turned.

“Get Ava and Harper into the safe room.”

“I can help.”

“I didn't ask.”

Her eyes hardened.

“I know.”

Then she moved.

Fast.

Too fast for a maid.

She grabbed Ava by the wrist and guided both girls toward the reinforced corridor.

I followed.

Three security men ran past us in the opposite direction.

Then another gunshot.

Then silence.

My stomach twisted.

“Victor.”

I sprinted toward the basement.

Marco caught up.

“Sir, don't go down there.”

“Move.”

“There's an active breach.”

“I said move.”

We reached the steel staircase.

The door was open.

Blood streaked across the floor.

One security guard lay against the wall.

Dead.

His gun was gone.

Victor was nowhere.

I looked down at the blood.

Too much.

But not enough for a gunshot wound.

“Find him.”

We split.

I checked the surveillance room.

Empty.

The underground interrogation room.

Empty.

The weapons vault.

Locked from inside.

Then I heard something.

A faint tapping.

Three knocks.

Pause.

Three knocks.

Pause.

Three knocks.

I turned toward the old wine cellar.

There was a maintenance panel in the wall.

I ripped it open.

Victor was inside.

Bleeding.

Alive.

I pulled him out.

“Who shot you?”

He pressed a hand against his side.

“Not important.”

“It is when you're leaking blood on my floor.”

His eyes locked onto mine.

“Your house is compromised.”

“No kidding.”

“Not from outside.”

I stared.

“What?”

“The person who opened the basement door had a code.”

I felt the room tilt.

“Whose code?”

Victor hesitated.

“Yours.”

Impossible.

Only I knew it.

And Marco.

My security chief stepped into the doorway.

“Sir.”

I looked at him.

His face was pale.

“Did anyone else know the basement code?”

“No.”

“Think carefully.”

“No one.”

Victor laughed weakly.

“That's not true.”

Marco looked at him.

“What are you talking about?”

Victor reached inside his jacket.

He pulled out a photograph.

Old.

Folded.

Damaged along the edges.

He handed it to me.

I opened it.

Elena stood in front of Ashford House.

She was pregnant.

I was beside her.

And behind us, barely visible near the garden wall, stood a younger Victor.

And Claire.

My hands went numb.

Claire was maybe nineteen in the photograph.

She wasn't wearing a maid's uniform.

She was wearing an EMT jacket.

And she was looking directly at Elena.

“What the hell is this?”

Victor stared at the floor.

“She was assigned to your wife.”

“Assigned by who?”

Victor whispered:

“By Elena.”

My mind raced.

“Why?”

“Because she knew someone inside the family was feeding information to a private security network.”

I stared at him.

“Who?”

Victor's expression changed.

Before he could answer, the overhead light flickered.

Then my phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

One message.

I opened it.

A photograph appeared.

Elena.

Alive.

Standing in a room I'd never seen.

She was older.

Thinner.

But unmistakably my wife.

Under the photograph were seven words.

YOU HAVE TWELVE HOURS TO FIND HER.

I looked at Victor.

“Is this real?”

Victor closed his eyes.

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Three years.”

My heart slammed.

“You've known she's alive for three years?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

Victor's voice dropped.

“Because that photograph was taken tonight.”

I stared at the screen.

A timestamp appeared beneath the image.

11:41 PM.

Current time.

My breathing stopped.

Someone in this house had been talking to Elena tonight.

And suddenly I understood the message.

The person who wanted me dead wasn't simply trying to eliminate me.

They wanted me distracted.

Angry.

Looking in the wrong direction.

I looked toward the hallway.

“Marco.”

“Yes?”

“Lock every door.”

“Already done.”

“No.”

I handed him the phone.

“Lock every door from the outside.”

His face tightened.

“Sir?”

“Nobody leaves this house.”

Ava's scream echoed from upstairs.

I ran.

We reached the safe room.

The steel door was open.

Harper was gone.

Ava was on the floor.

Claire was bleeding from her forehead.

I grabbed Ava.

“Where's your sister?”

She was shaking too hard to speak.

Claire pushed herself upright.

“They took her.”

My blood turned to ice.

“Who?”

Claire looked at me.

“One man.”

“Describe him.”

She swallowed.

“I couldn't see his face.”

“Then what did you see?”

Claire's voice trembled for the first time.

“His hand.”

“What about it?”

Ava suddenly whispered:

“The ring.”

I looked at her.

“What ring?”

Ava pointed toward the blood on the floor.

“It had our family crest.”

I stared.

The Ashford crest.

A ring only six people had ever been allowed to wear.

I knew all six.

One was dead.

One was standing beside me.

Three were downstairs.

And one had disappeared.

Victor slowly whispered:

“Marcus…”

I turned.

His face had gone white.

“That ring belongs to your brother.”

My heart stopped.

“My brother died eight years ago.”

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