Chapter 3 - The Fracture
Before Nathan could react, a heavy thud echoed from the top of the stairs. The butler, Arthur, stood at the open doorway, his face pale, holding a double-barreled shotgun.
"Mr. Harrington," Arthur called down, his voice trembling. "There are vehicles entering the gates. Black SUVs. No plates. Security at the front booth isn't responding."
Victoria’s eyes widened. "They're early. They weren't supposed to collect the boy until dawn."
"Who is coming, Victoria?" Nathan demanded, rushing up the stairs toward Arthur.
"The syndicate," she whispered, a rare flicker of genuine panic crossing her face. "The people who own the boy. The people who own us."
Nathan grabbed the shotgun from Arthur’s hands. He was a billionaire, a man used to controlling boards of directors and shifting global markets with a single text, but right now, he was a father and a man trapped in a horror movie of his wife's making.
"Arthur, go upstairs, lock Leo and Maya in the panic room in the master suite. Do not come out for anyone except me," Nathan ordered. Arthur nodded frantically and bolted up the hallway.
Nathan turned back down toward the basement. Victoria was already untying the boy, her movements frantic.
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"We have to give him to them, Nathan," she pleaded, dragging the crying child toward the stairs. "If they find out you know, if they think we are a liability, they will kill us all and take the company anyway."
"No," Nathan said, his voice hardening. Looking at the terrified, innocent child, a deep, unyielding rage overtook his fear. "The lie ends tonight."
