Chapter 10 - The Burning Foundation
“Agent Miller, they’re moving!” Julian shouted into his comms mic, slamming our vehicle into drive as the tires spun gravel in a frantic U-turn. “They’re heading back toward the main estate downtown! Intercept them now!”
“All units, pursue!” Agent Miller’s voice barked back through the speaker system as three black federal cruisers roared out of the tree line with sirens wailing, their red and blue strobes painting the dark pine forest in chaotic flashes of light.
In the back seat, I clutched little Leo tightly to my chest, the rhythmic thumping of my heart drowning out the roar of the engine. The realization hit me with terrifying clarity: Elena wasn't trying to escape to Nevada. She was executing a scorched-earth strategy. If she couldn't control the family empire, she was going to burn its historical heart to the ground—with the second twin trapped inside as leverage.
The twenty-minute drive back into the city limits felt like an eternity. As our vehicle crested the final hill leading toward the old family estate, a towering plume of black smoke billowed into the night sky, illuminated by flickering, angry tongues of orange flame licking at the historic roofline of the main house.
Julian slammed on the brakes right outside the iron gates, which had been broken open by force.
Fire department engines were already screaming up the drive, their hoses spraying frantic arcs of water toward the second-story windows where thick black smoke billowed out into the autumn air.
“Stay here!” Julian ordered, leaping out of the car and throwing his jacket over his arm.
“I’m coming with you!” I yelled back, stepping out of the vehicle with sleeping Leo safely secured in a baby carrier strapped tightly across my chest.
As we sprinted across the scorched lawn toward the burning entrance, Grandma’s car slid to a halt beside us. She stepped out, her eyes fixed entirely on the second-story nursery window where a faint, agonizing cry of a newborn baby echoed faintly over the roar of the flames.
Near the edge of the stone terrace, handcuffed and screaming hysterically in the custody of two federal marshals, was Richard.
“Elena!” Richard shrieked, fighting against the deputies as soot and ash rained down from the sky. “She’s in the nursery! She has the baby! Let me go!”
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Grandma ignored her son completely. She walked straight past him, her gaze locked on the burning doorway, and pulled the brass safe deposit key from her pocket with a steady, unyielding hand.
Before Julian or the fire captain could stop her, Grandma pulled a heavy wool blanket from a paramedic’s hands, wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, and bolted straight through the shattered front doors into the burning house.
