Chapter 4 - THE ASHFORD SYNDICATE
Before Nathaniel could comfort Grace, heavy footsteps echoed from the staircase above.
They weren't alone.
"She called them," Nathaniel realized. "Victoria had her phone on her. When I locked her in the study, she called her father's security."
Grace panicked. "My son. Leo is asleep in the staff quarters!"
"I won't let them touch him," Nathaniel promised. He ejected the VHS tape and shoved it deep into his overcoat pocket. This was the holy grail. The proof that would dismantle the Ashford empire.
They slipped out of the surveillance room just as three men in tactical gear descended into the main cellar. Flashlights swept across the wine racks.
"Find them," a gruff voice echoed. "Mr. Ashford wants the tape. And he wants no witnesses."
Nathaniel grabbed Grace’s hand. He knew this house better than anyone.
"Through the old prohibition tunnels," he whispered.
They moved silently through the dark, squeezing behind towering racks of vintage Bordeaux. Grace’s heart hammered against her ribs. Every shadow looked like a man with a gun.
"There," Nathaniel pointed to a brick wall that looked perfectly solid. He pressed a hidden latch beneath a sconce. A section of the wall swung inward with a dusty groan.
They slipped inside just as a flashlight beam hit the spot where they had been standing seconds before.
The tunnel was damp and pitch black. Nathaniel clicked on his phone’s flashlight.
"This leads directly beneath the staff quarters," he whispered, leading the way. "We get Leo, we get to the garage, and we drive until we reach the FBI field office in Manhattan. The local cops are probably on Ashford's payroll."
Grace nodded, wiping her tears. She couldn't be weak now. For Leo. For her mother.
"Why did Victoria keep me here?" Grace asked softly as they hurried through the dark. "If she knew who I was, why hire me?"
"To keep you close," Nathaniel deduced, his voice laced with disgust. "Keep your enemies closer. If you were working as her servant, she could monitor you. Ensure you never remembered anything from that night. It was a sick power trip."
They reached the end of the tunnel. A wooden ladder led up to a trapdoor.
Nathaniel climbed first, pushing it open.
They emerged into the laundry room of the staff quarters.
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But as they stepped out, the lights violently flicked on.
Standing in the doorway was Richard Ashford. And he was holding a gun.
