Chapter 10 - THE EMPTY ROOM.
I sprinted up the sweeping marble staircase, reloading my weapon with practiced, mechanical efficiency.
The second floor was a labyrinth of luxurious suites and heavy oak doors, but I knew exactly where Eleanor would establish her command center.
The master suite sat at the end of the long hallway, double doors reinforced with steel plating and heavily guarded.
Two men in heavy tactical armor stepped out from the adjacent rooms, raising shotguns toward my chest.
I slid across the polished hardwood floor, dropping low to avoid the deafening blast that tore a massive hole in the wall behind me.
Firing upward from my slide, I caught the first guard under the rim of his helmet, sending him crashing through a glass display case.
The second guard pumped his shotgun, but I scrambled forward, kicking his knee with bone-crushing force before he could fire.
As he buckled, I disarmed him in one fluid motion, driving the stock of his own weapon into his jaw to knock him out.
I didn't stop moving, throwing the shotgun aside and kicking the double doors of the master suite open with both feet.
The heavy doors slammed against the walls, revealing a massive room bathed in the harsh red glow of emergency lighting.
My gun swept the room instantly, checking the corners, the balcony, and the massive king-sized bed.
The room was completely empty of guards, but a roaring fire crackled cheerfully in the massive stone fireplace.
Sitting in a high-backed leather armchair facing the fire was a lone figure, completely unbothered by the gunfire outside.
I leveled my weapon at the back of the chair, my finger resting dangerously heavy on the trigger.
"Turn around slowly, Eleanor," I commanded, my voice shaking with a terrifying cocktail of adrenaline and pure hatred.
The chair slowly rotated, but the person sitting in it was not my mother.
It was Marcus, Eleanor's chief tactical advisor and the man who taught me everything I knew about hand-to-hand combat.
He looked up at me with a sad, almost pitying smile, taking a slow sip from a crystal glass of scotch.
"You fought beautifully tonight, Evelyn, just like I trained you," Marcus said, his voice calm and steady.
"Where is she?" I screamed, stepping forward and pressing the gun directly against his forehead.
"You really think Eleanor would be stupid enough to stay here while you were on the warpath?" he chuckled softly.
"She left this estate an hour ago; the helicopters you heard being prepped were just a distraction for you."
My blood ran ice cold as the horrific realization washed over me, completely paralyzing my mind.
"She used me to test your defenses, to see if you still had the killer instinct," Marcus explained, leaning back into the chair.
"She has Lily on a private jet, Evelyn, and it’s wheels-up in ten minutes from the abandoned airstrip in the valley."
"You've been chasing ghosts all night, and now you're entirely out of time."
May you like
I stared into his eyes, realizing the terrifying depth of my mother’s manipulative, sociopathic game.
The real race hadn't even started yet, and the final destination was a runway located twenty miles away.
