Chapter 4
The master suite was a sprawling expanse of luxury, bathed in the soft, warm light of a single bedside lamp. Ryan carefully set Maya down on the edge of the massive king-sized bed. The little girl looked around in awe, her fair, rosy skin practically glowing against the dark silk sheets. Emily quickly moved into the adjoining bathroom, returning a few minutes later with a pair of Lily’s oversized pajamas that would hopefully fit Maya's thin frame.
"Let's get you out of those dusty clothes, sweetie," Emily said gently, guiding Maya into the bathroom.
Ryan remained in the bedroom, pacing the length of the plush carpet. He unclasped his gold watch, setting it on the nightstand with a heavy metallic clink. He ran a hand through his thick hair, his mind racing through a decade of enemies, rival syndicates, and broken alliances. Who would have the audacity to breach his home? Who had the resources to fake Isabella's death, hold her captive for six years, and then orchestrate this psychological game?
A few minutes later, Emily emerged with Maya. The girl looked entirely different washed and dressed in clean, soft pajamas, though her extreme thinness was now even more apparent. Lily, who had refused to go back to her own room, was already sitting in the middle of the bed, patting the space next to her.
"Come sit, Maya!" Lily chirped.
Maya climbed onto the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. Ryan pulled a velvet armchair closer to the bed and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Maya," Ryan said softly, ensuring his powerful presence was dialed back. "I need to ask you some questions about how you got inside the house. Can you tell me?"
Maya looked at Emily, who offered a reassuring nod, before turning her big, fearful eyes back to Ryan. "The man brought me."
"Which man?" Ryan asked. "What did he look like?"
"I didn't see his face," Maya whispered, clutching the edge of the blanket. "He wore a mask. A black mask over his mouth. But he had a voice like gravel. He told me to crawl through the small metal door behind the big bushes outside. He said to follow the red tape on the wood, and it would lead me to a safe place."
"The ventilation maintenance shaft," Emily realized, looking at Ryan. "It connects to the old prohibition-era smuggler's tunnels beneath the foundation. We were told those were sealed before we bought the estate."
"They were supposed to be," Ryan said, his jaw tightening. "But clearly, someone unsealed them."
"He told me to stay quiet," Maya continued, her voice trembling slightly. "He said if the bad men found me, they would hurt my mommy. He gave me a bag of crackers and water bottles, and he said wait for you."
"Did he say when I would find you?" Ryan asked.
Maya shook her head. "He said you would find me when it was time for the fire."
Ryan’s blood ran cold. He shot up from the armchair, his perfectly tailored black trousers pulling taut as his muscles tensed. "The fire?"
"He said the big house was going to burn, just like the old house," Maya said, a tear slipping down her pale cheek. "He said I had to find you before the fire started, so you could save me."
Emily’s hand flew to her mouth. "Ryan... Isabella died in a fire."
"It's a message," Ryan said, his voice dropping to a lethal, dangerous register. "They didn't just put her here to hide her. They put her here as a timer. They wanted me to find her right before they strike."
Suddenly, the lights in the master suite flickered and died, plunging the room into absolute, terrifying darkness.
Lily let out a sharp cry of fear. Emily instantly threw herself onto the bed, wrapping her arms around both Lily and Maya, shielding them with her own body.
Ryan didn't hesitate. In the pitch black, he moved with the deadly precision of a man who had survived countless assassination attempts. He reached under the mattress and pulled out a suppressed tactical handgun, chambering a round with a soft, metallic click.
"Get on the floor," Ryan commanded in the darkness. "Behind the bed. Do not make a sound."
Emily scrambled off the mattress, pulling the two girls down into the narrow space between the heavy oak bedframe and the wall.
"Ryan," Emily whispered fiercely, her voice tight with panic. "The backup generators should have kicked in immediately."
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"They've been disabled," Ryan replied, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains. "The traitor cut the power lines from the inside."
The silence of the house was profound, broken only by the faint, distant sound of shattering glass from the lower level. The infiltration had begun. The fire was coming.
