Chapter 6
The heavy steel tumblers of the panic room locked into place, sealing out the sounds of the dying war above. The silence inside the bunker was sudden and absolute, broken only by Oliver's frantic cries and Rosie's soft whimpers. The small, reinforced room was illuminated by a soft, humming overhead light, revealing survival supplies, a bank of security monitors, and a few military-style cots.
Megan set Rosie down on a cot, her hands shaking violently as she tried to soothe the newborn. She paced the length of the small room, bouncing Oliver gently against her shoulder, whispering soft, comforting nonsense until his cries finally subsided into exhausted hiccups.
She walked over to the bank of security monitors. Most of the cameras had been destroyed in the initial blast, displaying only static. But a few internal feeds remained active. She could see the grand foyer—a nightmare of smoke, blood, and shattered marble. She searched frantically for Elias's broad shoulders, but the chaotic blur of tactical gear and muzzle flashes made it impossible to distinguish friend from foe.
"Mommy, loud noises," Rosie sniffled, rubbing her tear-streaked rosy cheeks.
"I know, baby," Megan whispered, sitting beside the toddler and wrapping her free arm around her. "But we're safe here. Papa is going to come get us soon."
Ten agonizing minutes passed. The silence in the bunker was more terrifying than the gunfire. Megan stared at the steel door, praying for Elias's voice.
Suddenly, a sharp, buzzing alarm blared from the security console. Megan jumped, her heart hammering against her ribs. She looked at the screens. The external camera facing the wine cellar stairs was still active.
A figure was descending the stone steps. It wasn't Elias.
It was Celine Voss.
The heiress had abandoned her plum satin gown for sleek black tactical clothing, but her diamond earrings still flashed maliciously in the dim light. She held a silver, suppressed handgun in her right hand, moving with predatory grace toward the vault door.
Megan’s blood ran completely cold. How had Celine bypassed the guards?
Celine stopped in front of the heavy steel door. She didn't try to open it. Instead, she looked directly into the security camera lens, a twisted, victorious smile painting her aristocratic face. She raised a small, black device to the camera—a thermal explosive charge.
"Did you really think a steel door could keep me out, you filthy maid?" Celine's voice crackled through the bunker's intercom system, dripping with venomous hatred. "My father bought the blueprints to this house months ago. I know exactly how to crack this vault."
Megan backed away from the door in sheer horror, pulling Rosie behind her legs and shielding Oliver with her body.
"Celine, please!" Megan shouted toward the intercom microphone. "You've already lost! Elias will kill you for this!"
"Elias is bleeding out in the west wing," Celine laughed, a harsh, brittle sound that echoed off the concrete walls. "My men cornered him in the armory. He's dead, Megan. And now, I am going to finish what I started. I'm going to take that baby back, and I'm going to make sure you and the brat never see the light of day again."
Celine slapped the explosive charge onto the locking mechanism of the steel door. She stepped back, raising a detonator.
"Cover your ears!" Megan screamed to Rosie, dropping to the floor and curling her body over the children.
May you like
A deafening, concussive blast rocked the bunker. The heavy steel door groaned in agony as the locking bolts were violently sheared off. Smoke poured into the room through the cracks. The door swung open, hitting the concrete wall with a massive crash.
Celine stepped through the smoke, her gun raised, her eyes burning with unhinged, sadistic joy.
