Chapter 9 - The Storm Breaks
The next 24 hours were agonizing.
Elena hid in the dense woods at the edge of the estate.
She watched the mansion through the heavy iron fence.
A massive storm was rolling in from the coast.
Dark, angry clouds swallowed the moon.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, promising chaos.
Elena knew chaos was exactly what she needed.
Inside the house, tomorrow was Isabella’s eighteenth birthday.
The deadline was practically zero.
Elena formulated a reckless, dangerous plan.
She couldn't get the papers from the safe.
Valentina had the gun and the code.
So, the papers didn't matter anymore.
The only evidence that mattered was Isabella herself.
If Marco saw his daughter with his own two eyes, the lies would instantly shatter.
Elena waited until 1:00 AM.
The storm finally broke.
Torrential rain hammered the roof.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the massive estate like a strobe light.
Elena squeezed through a small gap in the rusty iron fence near the gardens.
She knew the security guards usually sheltered in the gatehouse during heavy rain.
She sprinted across the wet grass, slipping and sliding in the mud.
She reached the back service door.
It was locked, of course.
But Elena remembered a trick Mr. Harrison had mentioned once.
The basement coal chute was old and the latch was rusted.
She crawled on her stomach through the mud until she found the metal grate.
She yanked on it with all her strength.
It groaned, protested, and finally gave way.
Elena slid headfirst down the chute.
She landed in a pile of black dust, coughing quietly.
She was inside.
She brushed the dirt off her dark clothes and crept up the stairs.
The house was eerily silent beneath the roaring thunder outside.
She bypassed the ground floor completely.
She knew Marco’s bedroom was on the second floor, east wing.
The attic was on the third floor, west wing.
She had to get Isabella down to Marco’s room before Valentina woke up.
She climbed the stairs quickly, her soaked shoes squeaking slightly on the marble.
She reached the third floor.
She moved down the hallway toward the hidden tapestry.
Suddenly, a massive figure stepped out of the shadows.
It was one of Valentina’s personal security guards.
A hulking man with a mean face and a radio strapped to his chest.
He hadn't seen her yet. He was lighting a cigarette.
Elena froze behind a marble statue.
She couldn't fight him. He was twice her size.
She looked around frantically for a distraction.
She noticed a heavy, antique bronze vase on a nearby pedestal.
Waiting for the next massive clap of thunder, Elena shoved the vase.
It crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.
The guard cursed, dropping his cigarette, and ran toward the noise.
Elena used the split second to slip behind the tapestry.
She reached the heavy wooden door.
It was locked again.
But this time, she didn't have ten minutes to pick it.
She stepped back, took a deep breath, and kicked the old wood right near the latch.
The wood splintered loudly.
She kicked it again.
The door flew open.
Elena rushed into the dark attic.
“Isabella!” she whisper-shouted.
A small figure bolted out from under the bed.
“Elena? You came back!” Isabella cried, throwing her arms around the housekeeper.
“We have to go,” Elena said, grabbing the girl’s hand. “Right now.”
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“Where?” Isabella asked, terrified.
“To your father.”
