Chapter 10
The hours passed, and the grand estate slowly transformed back into a sanctuary. The cleaning staff had arrived, silently and efficiently scrubbing the spilled soda and ruined cake from the marble floors, restoring the bright, vivid colors of the home to their pristine condition.
Thomas spent the entire evening devoted solely to his children. He ran them a warm bubble bath, cooked their favorite dinner—macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, a stark and happy contrast to the catered seafood they had been denied earlier—and read them three bedtime stories before they finally fell asleep in their massive, comfortable beds.
Sitting in the dim light of their bedroom, watching the steady rise and fall of their small chests, Thomas felt a profound sense of peace. He had protected them. He had purged the toxicity from their lives. Their fair, rosy skin was clean, their breathing easy.
He quietly closed the bedroom door and walked down the long, carpeted hallway toward his private study. The house was completely silent, the cinematic moonlight pouring through the windows, casting long, peaceful shadows.
Thomas poured himself a glass of bourbon, the amber liquid catching the light, and sank into the heavy leather chair behind his desk. He took a slow sip, the burn of the alcohol grounding him after the explosive adrenaline of the day.
Suddenly, the encrypted, secure landline on his desk began to ring.
It was a stark, jarring sound in the quiet house. Only a handful of people in the world had that number, and none of them would be calling at this hour unless it was a matter of life and death.
Thomas set his glass down, his brow furrowing. He reached out and picked up the heavy receiver, pressing it to his ear.
"Reed," Thomas answered, his American accent low and guarded.
For a moment, there was nothing but the crackle of static on the other end of the line. Then, a voice spoke. It was a woman’s voice, breathless, terrified, and undeniably familiar.
"Thomas..." the voice whispered, the sound sending an electric shock straight through Thomas’s heart.
"Sarah?" Thomas gasped, shooting up from his chair, his eyes wide with a mixture of impossible hope and sudden, gripping terror. His missing wife. The mother of his children. The woman Robert and Helen had claimed abandoned them.
"Thomas, you have to listen to me," Sarah pleaded, her voice trembling violently against the background noise of rushing wind and distant sirens. "They found me. The people your father sold the company secrets to... they found me. You have to protect the kids. They are coming for—"
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The line went dead with a sharp, violent click.
Thomas stood frozen in the bright moonlight of his study, the phone still pressed to his ear. The war with his parents was over, but a much darker, infinitely more dangerous nightmare had just begun.
