Chapter 2: The House of Shadows
The extraction was messy, but Liam’s training kicked in. He didn't wait for mall security or Eleanor’s goons to arrive. He swept the girl—whose name he now knew was indeed Dany—into his arms, ignoring her protests about her leg, and navigated the back corridors of the mall.
They reached his rugged truck, a beast of a machine that had seen more off-road miles than most civilian vehicles. He buckled her into the passenger seat and tore out of the parking lot, tires screeching.
"We can't go to the police," she whispered, shivering despite the heat. "Eleanor... she bought them. She bought the Sheriff, the DA, the judge. They all think I’m a ghost, Liam. They think I’m an inheritance payout that’s already been spent."
"Slow down," Liam said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Ten years, Dany. Where have you been?"
"The basement," she said simply, the horror of it weighing down the air. "The East Wing of the Thorne estate. It was soundproofed. She told me the world outside had burned down. She told me that if I ever left, the people who started the fire would come back for me."
Liam felt a rage so pure and hot it was blinding. He had been a medic, a protector, yet he had failed the one person who mattered most. He had grieved, he had grieved until he was hollow, while she had been living in a tomb created by a woman who wanted the family trust fund that had been left to Dany.
They reached a safe house—a remote hunting cabin in the Appalachian foothills that belonged to his old platoon sergeant. It wasn't much, but it was off the grid. As he helped her inside, he realized the extent of her injuries. Her leg hadn't healed properly after the "accident" years ago. Eleanor had kept her in a state of perpetual recovery, ensuring she could never run.
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"We have to expose her," Dany said, sitting by the stone fireplace, clutching a mug of tea. "She has files. Paperwork. She has to keep records of her 'foundation' assets. If we can get into the main server in her study, we can pull the evidence of the fraud, the kidnapping, and the false death certificate."
"A gala," Liam muttered, his eyes narrowing. "She holds that foundation gala every year in July. High security, but it brings all the elite together. Everyone will be there. It’s the perfect time to strike."
