THE ARCHITECT AND THE MAID

The air in the house tasted like cordite and burning wood.

Sophie pushed Toby and Isabella down the dark, narrow servant’s corridor that ran parallel to the main hallways. The sounds of heavy gunfire echoed through the mansion, sharp pops and deep, booming thuds that vibrated in Sophie's chest.

“Keep your head down, Toby,” Sophie whispered fiercely, holding his hand in a death grip.

“Where is Clara?” Isabella asked, her brief moment of lucidity fading back into the fog. She stopped walking, looking around the dark hallway. “I need to find Clara.”

“I’m right here,” Sophie lied, her heart breaking. “I’m Clara. We have to go into the library, Mamma. We have to hide from the bad men.”

Isabella seemed to accept this. She nodded, clutching the front of Sophie’s apron.

They reached the library. The massive room was lined with thousands of books, smelling of old paper and leather. Sophie remembered Lorenzo’s instructions. Behind the library.

She pushed past the heavy mahogany desk and found the large portrait of Lorenzo’s grandfather. She ran her hands along the wooden frame, her fingers desperate and clumsy.

Click.

The portrait swung outward, revealing a heavy steel door with a biometric scanner.

Sophie froze. Biometric. She didn't have Lorenzo’s fingerprint.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway outside the library. Men were shouting, their voices rough and hurried.

“Check the west wing! Find the old woman!”

Sophie shoved Isabella and Toby behind the desk, crouching down with them. She covered Toby’s mouth with her hand to muffle his panicked breathing.

The library doors burst open. Flashlight beams cut through the darkness, sweeping over the leather chairs and the tall bookshelves.

Sophie squeezed her eyes shut. She held the brass key tightly in her fist, praying for a miracle.

Suddenly, a massive shadow filled the doorway.

It was Silas.

The giant bodyguard was bleeding from a deep gash on his forehead, his suit torn, holding a combat shotgun. He stepped into the library and raised the weapon, firing twice into the hallway. The men who had been searching screamed and went down.

Silas slammed the library doors shut and locked them, then slumped against the wood, breathing heavily.

“Sophie!” Silas rasped, coughing. “Where are you?”

Sophie hesitated, then peeked out from behind the desk. “Here.”

Silas limped over to the portrait. He pressed his thumb against the scanner. A green light flashed, and the heavy steel door hissed open.

“Get in,” Silas grunted. “Now.”

Sophie ushered Isabella and Toby into the small, brightly lit room. It was lined with monitors, emergency rations, and a medical kit.

Silas didn't follow them in. He turned back toward the library doors, which were now rattling as more men tried to break them down.

“Aren’t you coming?” Sophie cried.

“My job is outside,” Silas said, racking the shotgun. He looked at Sophie, his bruised face cracking into a grim smile. “Keep the Don’s mother safe. You did good tonight, kid.”

Silas hit a button on the wall. The heavy steel door began to close.

Just before it sealed, Sophie saw the library doors burst open again, and Silas raise his weapon with a roar.

The safe room door clicked shut, plunging them into absolute, terrifying silence.

Sophie sank to the floor, pulling Toby into her lap. She rocked him back and forth, humming the same lullaby she used to sing when he was a baby.

Isabella sat on a small cot in the corner. She looked at the security monitors mounted on the wall. They showed various rooms in the house. Most were static, the cameras shot out. But one camera, in the grand foyer, was still active.

“Look,” Isabella pointed.

Sophie looked up. On the screen, Lorenzo was standing in the ruined foyer. He was out of bullets, his gun discarded on the marble floor.

Surrounding him were four men in tactical gear. And walking through the shattered front doors, wearing a perfectly tailored overcoat, was Senator Thomas Vane.

Vane looked around the destroyed house with a look of mild disgust. He stepped over a shattered vase and stopped a few feet from Lorenzo.

“You should have just stayed quiet, Lorenzo,” Vane’s voice crackled through the safe room’s audio feed. “You let a maid embarrass my wife, and now look at your empire. Ashes.”

Lorenzo stood tall, bleeding from a cut on his cheek, but his posture was completely unbroken.

“You think this is my empire?” Lorenzo said, his voice dripping with venom. “This is just a house, Thomas. My empire is everywhere.”

Vane sighed. “Kill him. Find the mother and the key. Burn the rest.”