I freeze.
The hum of the computer on the desk dies. The lamp goes out. The room plunges into gray gloom, lit only by the sliver of light coming from the hallway.
A power cut?
No. The backup generators should kick in instantly. Silas said so.
I wait.
One second. Two seconds. Three.
Silence.
The generator doesn't start.
My heart rate spikes again. I can feel the tracker pulsing against my skin, sending the frantic data to a man who isn't here.
Then, I hear it.
A sound that doesn't belong in this house.
Crunch. Crunch.
Glass breaking.
It’s coming from the west wing. From the conservatory.
Marta?
No. Marta has keys. Marta doesn't break glass.
Someone is here.
I scramble to my feet, clutching the file to my chest.
Nikolai.
He didn't just want my father. He wanted the asset. And he knew Silas left. The drone... it wasn't just scouting. It was waiting for the King to leave the castle.
I run to the door. I need to hide. I need to get back to the bedroom, to the safe room, to anywhere with a lock.
I step into the hallway.
It’s dark. The emergency lights haven't triggered. The electronic locks might be dead.
I hear footsteps. Heavy. Fast. Multiple people.
They are moving across the marble foyer, heading toward the stairs.
"Check the rooms," a voice growls. It’s deep, accented. Russian. "Find the girl. Leave the old woman."
They are here.
I back up, retreating into the office. I lock the door with the brass key, my hands shaking so hard I almost drop it.
It’s a flimsy lock. It won't hold them.
I need a weapon.
