Chapter 8 - The Lockdown
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The following morning, Blackwood Manor awoke to a terrifying new reality.
Marco had initiated a full tactical lockdown. Heavy steel shutters sealed the ground-floor windows. Armed guards patrolled the grand hallways with automatic weapons slung across their chests. No servant was allowed to leave the premises, and all external phone lines were cut.
Panic rippled through the staff kitchen.
“What’s going on?” Sarah, the young maid, cried, clutching a dish towel. “Are we under attack?”
“Keep your voices down and do your jobs,” Harold snapped, though his usual arrogant composure was deeply shaken. He looked pale and sweating.
Emma scrubbed the kitchen counters, keeping her head down. She could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating like humidity before a violent storm.
Victor was making his move.
At exactly noon, Marco and three heavily armed enforcers marched into the east wing. Emma watched from the end of the hallway as they kicked open the door to Silas Vance’s office.
There was a brief shout, the sound of breaking glass, and then silence.
Two minutes later, Silas was dragged out of his office by his collar, bleeding from a split lip. He was weeping, begging for mercy as Marco hauled him down the grand staircase toward the soundproof basement holding cells.
The message was clear: the rat had been caught.
But as Emma watched the scene unfold, a sudden, sharp pain flared in her spine. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.
She turned around slowly.
Standing at the other end of the corridor was Julian Blackwood, Victor’s younger cousin. Julian was leaning against a marble pillar, perfectly dressed in a tailored suit, casually sipping a glass of bourbon.
He was watching Silas being dragged away, but he didn't look worried. He looked amused.
Julian slowly turned his head, his dark, reptilian eyes locking directly onto Emma. He raised his glass to her in a mocking, silent toast.
Then, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a sleek, expensive fountain pen.
May you like
He clicked it once.
Emma’s blood ran completely cold. Julian was the mastermind. And he knew she was the one who had exposed Silas.
