Chapter 9 - The Night Blackridge Went Dark
By sunset Blackridge was sealed.
No employee left.
No employee entered.
Roman ordered every security credential reset.
Ethan protested.
Roman ignored him.
Lena Ortiz took control of the new access list.
Marcus remained under observation despite Evelyn defending him.
Roman trusted evidence.
Not reunions.
Not apologies.
Not history.
Claire spent two hours alone with her mother.
When she finally returned to Roman’s study, her eyes were swollen but dry.
“How are you?”
“That may be too complicated for tonight.”
Roman nodded.
He poured tea rather than asking Daniel for anything.
Claire sat across from him.
“She says she watched me.”
Roman looked up.
“For six years?”
“From a distance. School graduation. First apartment. When I started here.”
“She knew you worked for me?”
“Yes.”
“And allowed it.”
Claire nodded.
“She says Marcus arranged it because Blackridge was the safest place for me.”
Roman frowned.
“My estate was infiltrated twice in twenty-four hours.”
“She admits the plan had flaws.”
Roman leaned back.
“Why here?”
“Because she believed the Architect would never attack you openly.”
“He seems less hesitant now.”
Claire studied him.
“Do you regret letting me stay?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Claire noticed.
Roman noticed that she noticed.
Neither commented.
At ten seventeen the power failed.
Not flickered.
Failed.
Every light across Blackridge vanished simultaneously.
Emergency systems did not engage.
Roman stood.
Claire reached for the flashlight.
“Again?”
“This time stay close.”
She looked toward him.
“I’ve learned.”
The estate was completely silent.
Then the generator started.
For two seconds.
It died.
Roman’s phone displayed no signal.
Claire whispered, “They isolated us again.”
Roman moved toward the hall.
A handwritten note slid beneath the study door.
He stopped.
Claire stared.
No footsteps outside.
Roman picked it up.
EAST BALLROOM. BRING EVELYN. TEN MINUTES. OR THE HOUSE BURNS.
Roman smelled something.
Smoke.
He opened the door.
A thin haze drifted from the western hallway.
Fire alarms remained silent.
Someone had disabled them.
Roman shouted, “Evacuate west wing!”
People appeared from rooms.
Security staff began moving employees toward exterior exits.
But the main doors would not open.
Electronic locks.
Claire looked at Roman.
“Same as last night.”
Worse.
This time someone had locked forty people inside.
Roman ordered windows broken where necessary.
Then another problem appeared.
The sprinklers activated.
Not where the smoke was.
Everywhere else.
Water poured through hallways, creating chaos and reducing visibility.
Roman understood.
The fire was a distraction.
Someone wanted movement.
Wanted people separated.
“Claire.”
She stood beside him.
“Find your mother.”
They reached Evelyn’s guest room.
Empty.
Window open.
One curtain moving in the rain.
On the floor lay another note.
TOO SLOW.
Claire ran toward the ballroom.
Roman caught her.
“No.”
“They took her.”
“That is exactly why you don’t run where they tell you.”
“My mother—”
“Claire.”
She stopped.
Roman took her face gently between his hands.
“Whoever has Evelyn expects emotion to make us predictable.”
Her breathing slowed.
“What do we do?”
“We become unpredictable.”
Roman led her downstairs.
Instead of heading east, they entered the underground archive.
Claire understood.
“The tunnels.”
“Exactly.”
They moved beneath the house.
At an intersection Roman found wet footprints.
Evelyn’s?
Another set accompanied them.
They followed.
The passage ended beneath the east ballroom.
Voices above.
Roman found the hidden access panel.
He listened.
A man spoke.
“Where is the page?”
Evelyn answered.
“You’ve spent twenty years looking for it. Why would I tell you now?”
Claire recognized her mother’s voice.
Roman indicated silence.
Another voice.
Distorted electronically.
“You misunderstand your position.”
Evelyn laughed.
“No. You misunderstand Roman Vale.”
Roman glanced at Claire.
She whispered, “She likes you.”
“Unexpected.”
Above them something struck the floor.
Claire tensed.
Roman opened the panel two inches.
He could see shoes.
Three men.
Evelyn tied to a chair.
And somebody standing in shadow.
The distorted voice continued.
“Roman will trade anything to protect the innocent. His father never understood that weakness.”
Roman’s expression changed.
His father’s supposed philosophy.
Love created vulnerability.
Someone knew Vincent very well.
Then Evelyn said something unexpected.
“You still talk about Vincent like he betrayed you.”
Silence.
The hidden figure stepped forward slightly.
Not enough to reveal his face.
But enough for Roman to see his hand.
A silver ring with a black stone.
The same ring Ethan wore in the old recording.
Claire saw it too.
Her eyes widened.
Was Ethan the Architect?
Roman closed the panel.
He whispered, “We need Ethan.”
Claire stared at him.
“You saw the ring.”
“Yes.”
“You still want Ethan?”
“Especially now.”
“Why?”
“Because Ethan stopped wearing that ring six years ago.”
Claire remembered.
Current Ethan wore no jewelry.
Roman continued.
“The person upstairs wants us to believe it’s him.”
They found Ethan in the security corridor directing evacuation.
Roman said only, “Come with me.”
Ethan followed.
When Roman explained the ring, Ethan went pale.
“I gave it away.”
“To whom?”
“My brother.”
Roman stopped.
“You have a brother?”
“Had.”
“What was his name?”
Ethan stared at him.
“Samuel.”
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
Claire nearly laughed from disbelief.
Roman did not.
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
“How?”
“Vincent told me he was killed overseas.”
Roman’s eyes closed briefly.
Another dead man.
Ethan whispered, “Oh, God.”
Roman looked at him.
“Your brother isn’t dead.”
Above them, the ballroom floor creaked.
Then the distorted voice spoke through the estate intercom.
“Roman.”
Everyone heard it.
“You have five minutes.”
Ethan stared toward the ceiling.
The voice had changed.
No electronic distortion.
His face drained of color.
“Samuel.”
A laugh answered through the speakers.
“Hello, brother.”
And for the first time, Roman knew the name of the man who had been haunting his family for twenty years.
Samuel Mercer.
May you like
The Architect.
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