Chapter 3 - Echoes in the Nursery
The lights stabilized into amber emergency tones, casting long, sharp shadows across the wallpaper. From down below, the music stuttered and died, replaced by a low, confused rumble of guest conversation drifting up through the central atrium.
"They're cutting our external comms," Elena said, pulling a tiny encrypted thumb drive from the baby's sleeve and holding it out. "Whoever Sofia was talking to, they aren't waiting for the transfer anymore. They're already on the grounds."
Julian took the thumb drive. It was cool against his palm, no larger than a house key, yet bearing the potential destruction of an industrial empire. He looked down at the baby. The infant opened small, slate-grey eyes—eyes identical to Christopher’s—and let out a tiny yawn, oblivious to the storm raging above its head.
A wave of profound grief caught Julian in the chest, unexpected and piercing. Christopher had kept secrets, yes, but he had never been cruel. If this child was Christopher’s blood, he was the only innocent living soul in this entire house.
"Sofia, step into the room," Julian commanded.
"No," Sofia hissed, her eyes darting toward the grand staircase at the end of the hall. "You don't understand who is backing this, Julian. You think you're untouchable because of your last name. But Christopher thought that too. Look where it got him."
"Who?" Julian demanded, taking a step toward her.
Before Sofia could answer, the sharp crack of shattering glass echoed from the ground floor, followed immediately by screams. The guests weren't confused anymore; panic had officially broken out.
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Julian grabbed Sofia’s wrist firmly, pulling her inside the bridal suite and gesturing Elena to follow. "Inside. Lock the inner bolt."
He didn't wait to see if they complied. Julian reached inside his tuxedo jacket, thumbing the discreet radio transmitter on his lapel. "David. Report. Who just came through the terrace doors?"
