Chapter 5 - Cornered in the Dark
"You are a remarkably stupid man, Mr. Journalist," Eleanor said, her voice echoing off the damp concrete walls. She stepped forward, impeccably dressed despite the late hour, holding an umbrella that one of the guards held over her head, even though they were indoors. "Did you really think I didn't have tracking software on my own license plates? I knew you were looking into me the moment you searched my name at that diner."
David stepped in front of Lily, pushing her behind his legs. He gripped his crowbar tightly, though he knew it was useless against three armed men.
"Let them go, Eleanor," David said, his voice surprisingly steady. "I've already sent the evidence to my editor. If I don't check in by morning, the whole world knows Sarah is alive."
Eleanor laughed. It was a dry, hollow sound. "Let them print it. I own the papers. I own the judges. I will simply tell the press that my poor, deranged daughter survived her crash but suffered a severe psychotic break, and I have been privately funding her medical care to protect her dignity."
She looked at Lily with absolute disgust. "And as for the street urchin... she will be sent to an orphanage in a country so far away she will forget her own name."
Behind the steel door, Sarah was screaming, pounding her bruised fists against the glass, begging her mother to let her child go.
"Why?" David yelled over the noise. "She's your flesh and blood! She's your grandbaby!"
"She is a mistake!" Eleanor snapped, her composure finally cracking. "My daughter was supposed to marry a senator! She was supposed to elevate the Vance empire! Instead, she ran off with a mechanic. A nobody! I spent millions covering up her pregnancy, locking her away to preserve our stock prices. That child is a stain on my legacy."
"You're a monster," David whispered.
"No," Eleanor said coldly. "I am a survivor. Guards. Kill the man. Put the child in the trunk."
The three men drew their guns and stepped forward.
David's mind raced. He had no weapons. He was trapped in a dead-end tunnel. He looked down at Lily, who was clutching his leg, her eyes squeezed shut in terror.
"Lily," David whispered, loud enough only for her to hear. "When I move, you run back to the vent. Do not look back."
David tightened his grip on the crowbar and let out a primal scream, charging directly at the closest guard.
A gunshot deafened the tunnel.
But David didn't feel any pain. The guard in front of him collapsed to the floor, clutching his leg.
Eleanor screamed. The other two guards whipped around, aiming their guns back the way they came.
Standing at the entrance of the tunnel, soaked in rain, were five uniformed police officers, their weapons drawn and leveled at Eleanor’s security team. And standing right in the middle of them was an older man in a sharp suit—the Police Commissioner.
"Drop the weapons!" the Commissioner roared.
Eleanor’s face went ghost-white. "Commissioner? What is the meaning of this? These are trespassers!"
"Save it, Eleanor," the Commissioner said, stepping forward. He held up a cell phone. On the screen was an active Facebook Live broadcast. The view counter showed over 500,000 people watching.
May you like
David smiled, a bloody, exhausted grin. "I didn't send the evidence to my editor, Eleanor. I went live the moment we stepped into the tunnel. The whole world just heard you confess to faking your daughter's death."
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