They stopped right outside the door.
Aaliyah held her breath, her eyes strained in the darkness. The red light of the electronic keypad suddenly flashed green. The lock slid back with a heavy, metallic groan.
The door slowly swung open.
Standing in the doorway, framed by the dim moonlight of the hallway, was Daniela. But she wasn’t alone. Behind her stood two large, imposing estate security guards, their faces expressionless. In Daniela’s hand, glinting under the moon’s pale light, was a heavy, silver master-key override and a long, gleaming syringe filled with a thick, milky fluid.
“I tried to do this quietly, Aaliyah,” Daniela said, her voice completely calm, completely devoid of humanity. “But accidents happen in large houses. A tragic fire… a faulty wire in the west wing… a nanny who tried to kidnap a billionaire’s daughter and perished in the flames. It’s a narrative the press will love.”
One of the guards stepped forward, his massive frame blocking the entire exit, reaching into his jacket for a taser.
Aaliyah backed up until her spine hit the unbreakable glass window. There was nowhere left to run. Lucía gripped her hand, and in that moment of absolute terror, the little girl opened her mouth, her eyes blazing with a sudden, fierce light.
But what happened next left everyone frozen.
