Chapter 10
The explosive sound of shattering glass tore through the dim library. Thousands of glittering shards rained down onto the carpet and out onto the side garden patio, glinting fiercely as they caught the bright, cinematic daylight outside. The cool summer breeze instantly rushed into the suffocating room, carrying the promise of freedom.
"Stop her!" Marcelline screamed, her voice hitting a fever pitch of absolute panic.
Jessamine didn't hesitate. She dropped the heavy bronze bookend and spun back toward the mahogany desk. She dropped to her knees, reaching under the dark wood.
"Come on, Piers! Run!" Jessamine shouted.
She grabbed the four-year-old boy by the hand, pulling him out from his hiding spot. Piers didn't freeze; fueled by his mother's urgency, his little legs moved as fast as they could.
Arthur and the cousins lunged across the room, but the massive desk and the scattered armchairs formed a brief, chaotic obstacle course. Jessamine hoisted Piers up into her arms, ignoring the burning ache in her muscles. She turned toward the shattered French windows. Carefully avoiding the jagged shards of glass remaining in the wooden frame, she stepped through the broken window and out onto the side garden patio.
The bright, natural sunlight hit her face, blinding her for a fraction of a second. The colors of the garden were overwhelmingly vibrant after the darkness of the library.
"Get back here!" Arthur roared, climbing through the shattered window just seconds behind her, his boots crunching loudly on the broken glass.
Jessamine sprinted across the side lawn, her flats digging into the manicured grass. The winding, paved driveway was just twenty yards away. Her car was parked near the front fountain. If she could reach the car, she had the keys in her pocket. She had the evidence of the five-million-dollar payoff and the conspiracy. She could go straight to the FBI.
She reached the edge of the driveway, the black asphalt hot under the summer sun. She could see her sedan parked just ahead. Hope surged violently in her chest.
Suddenly, a heavy, black SUV rounded the corner of the driveway, accelerating rapidly from the direction of the front security gates. The vehicle screeched to a halt directly in front of her car, completely blocking her path of escape.
The heavy doors of the SUV swung open. Three men in dark tactical suits stepped out, their expressions cold and professional. They weren't party guests; they were the estate's private, heavily armed security contractors.
Jessamine skidded to a halt on the hot pavement, clutching Piers tightly against her chest. She looked wildly back over her shoulder. Arthur and the cousins had crested the lawn, cutting off her retreat to the house. Marcelline was walking slowly behind them, picking her way across the grass in her ruined heels, a triumphant, lethal smile spreading across her fair, rosy face.
They were completely surrounded in the bright, beautiful sunlight.
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"You thought you could just walk away with our secrets, Jessamine?" Marcelline called out, her voice echoing off the pavement. She stepped up beside the armed contractors, holding her hand out one final time.
Jessamine stood trapped in the center of the driveway. She held her terrified son close, the heavy envelope burning like a live coal in her pocket. She looked at the armed men, and then at the monster who had murdered her husband. The cinematic light cast a long, dramatic shadow behind her. She had nowhere left to run, but as she tightened her grip on her child, her eyes darkened with a fierce, unbreakable resolve. She wasn't going to surrender; she was going to fight until her last breath.
