Chapter 2 - THE ECHO OF THE DESCENT
The breathless silence of the grand mansion foyer hung thick and suffocating over the pristine black-and-white checkered marble floor.
Clara Vance pressed her face tightly against Ethan’s chest, her crimson red sweater dress damp with the cold sweat of sheer terror.
Her blonde hair, usually meticulously tied back, had come partially undone, framing her pale face in a chaotic cascade of golden strands.
Ethan’s arms wrapped around her waist with bone-crushing intensity, his light blue button-down shirt straining against his heaving, muscular shoulders.
Just seconds earlier, gravity had nearly claimed her life in a calculated act of cold-blooded murder disguised as an unfortunate household accident.
Above them on the mahogany-trimmed second-floor balcony, the massive crystal chandelier cast long, distorted shadows across the opulent landing.
The colossal American flag standing proudly near the front double doors fluttered slightly in a draft, its stars and stripes indifferent to the horror unfolding beneath it.
Ethan’s gaze remained locked upward, his dark eyes burning with an incandescent fury that defied human comprehension.
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His knees throbbed with sharp, shooting pain from the violent slide across the hard marble tiles, but he felt nothing over the adrenaline surging through his veins.
Clara’s fingers clutched frantically at the fabric of his dark grey trousers, her whole body trembling violently as the shock finally took full hold of her nervous system.
