Chapter 14 - The House Turned Against Them
The first thing Vincent did was reach for Norah.
Not a weapon.
Not a phone.
Her.
He pulled her away from the windows as the estate lights died.
Emergency lighting turned the hallway red.
“What’s happening?”
“Security breach.”
“I gathered that.”
Enzo appeared.
“Gate controls are compromised. Cameras too.”
“Internal?”
“Half offline.”
“Backup?”
“Manual.”
Vincent looked toward Liam.
“Stay with Norah.”
Norah shook her head.
“No.”
Vincent turned.
“Not now.”
“I’m not hiding while you—”
“Norah.”
His voice was different.
Not commanding.
Afraid.
She heard it.
Vincent lowered his voice.
“Please.”
That word stopped her.
He had never used it.
Norah nodded.
“Fine.”
Vincent and Enzo moved toward the security center.
Liam led Norah toward the guest wing.
They made it halfway.
A guard appeared from the side corridor.
“Mr. Rossy said move you to the garage.”
Norah stopped.
“No, he didn’t.”
The guard hesitated.
Liam saw it too.
He grabbed Norah’s arm.
They ran.
The guard shouted.
Footsteps followed.
Liam shoved open a service door.
They descended stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know.”
“Excellent plan.”
“Runs in the family.”
Norah almost laughed.
They entered the basement.
Liam locked the door.
The pursuing guard hit it seconds later.
Once.
Twice.
Norah looked around.
Storage rooms.
Wine cellar.
Old furniture.
Another hallway.
“Come on.”
They moved deeper.
Upstairs, Vincent reached security.
Someone had uploaded malware through the estate management network.
Professional.
Prepared.
Months of planning.
“They had remote access before today,” Enzo said.
“Through Martin?”
“Probably.”
Vincent grabbed a radio.
“Manual lockdown. Nobody moves without visual confirmation.”
Static.
Then one guard answered.
Another.
Enough.
“Norah?”
No response.
Vincent’s stomach dropped.
He called.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
Enzo saw his face.
“She’s probably underground. Signal is bad.”
“Probably is a word I currently hate.”
They moved.
In the basement, Norah and Liam found an old door.
Unlocked.
Inside was a kitchen.
Not a modern one.
Small.
Yellow cabinets.
Old stove.
A worn wooden table.
Dust covered everything.
Norah stared.
“This doesn’t belong in this house.”
Liam closed the door.
Footsteps passed outside.
They waited.
Silence returned.
Norah noticed photographs on a shelf.
Vincent.
As a child.
His brother.
A woman.
His grandmother.
“This was hers.”
Liam looked around.
“Who?”
“Vincent’s grandmother.”
The forgotten kitchen.
The place where the food Vincent remembered had probably been cooked.
Norah touched the table.
Above it hung an old handwritten recipe card.
Chicken soup.
Garlic.
Onion.
Rice.
Norah stared.
Nearly identical to the first meal she had made.
Her eyes filled unexpectedly.
“What?” Liam asked.
“Nothing.”
She took the card.
The basement door opened somewhere outside.
Voices.
Liam switched off the light.
They waited.
A radio crackled.
Then Vincent’s voice echoed.
“Norah?”
She opened the kitchen door.
“Here.”
Vincent appeared seconds later.
He crossed the distance and pulled her against him.
No hesitation this time.
No concern who watched.
Norah held him.
“I’m okay.”
“I know.”
“You look like you don’t.”
“I’m adjusting.”
Liam smiled faintly.
“I’m also alive.”
Vincent glanced toward him.
“Excellent.”
“That felt sincere.”
“It was adequate.”
Enzo arrived.
“The house is secure.”
“Casualties?”
“Two guards injured. Nobody dead.”
“Attackers?”
“Three insiders detained.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
Julian had placed people inside months earlier.
Maybe years.
The house itself had become a weapon.
Norah held up the recipe card.
Vincent froze.
“Where did you get that?”
“Here.”
He stepped into the old kitchen.
The anger drained from his face.
“My grandmother.”
“I guessed.”
Vincent walked toward the stove.
“She cooked down here because she hated the main kitchen.”
Norah smiled.
“I like her more every time you mention her.”
“She said expensive kitchens made people arrogant.”
“She was correct.”
Vincent touched the table.
Memories returned.
His brother stealing bread.
His grandmother yelling in Italian.
His father coming downstairs late at night pretending he was not hungry.
For years Vincent had preserved the room without entering it.
Now Norah stood inside.
Somehow that felt right.
Enzo interrupted.
“We need to leave.”
Vincent nodded.
Then paused.
“No.”
Enzo frowned.
“What?”
“Julian thinks the estate is compromised.”
“It is.”
“He thinks we’ll retreat.”
“Probably.”
Vincent looked around the kitchen.
“No more retreating.”
Norah knew that expression.
“What are you planning?”
Vincent smiled.
“A dinner.”
Enzo looked concerned.
“Your solutions are becoming strangely food-oriented.”
“Her influence.”
Norah folded her arms.
“What kind of dinner?”
Vincent looked at the recipe card.
“One Julian cannot refuse.”
He would invite Julian Mercer to the estate.
Publicly.
With attorneys.
Business partners.
Board members.
People whose signatures controlled the legitimate companies Julian wanted.
Vincent would offer surrender.
At least, that was what Julian would believe.
In reality, Liam would present evidence of the forged documents.
Martin would testify.
Enzo would control security manually.
And Norah?
Vincent looked at her.
“You’re not involved.”
She laughed.
“No.”
“I expected that.”
“Good.”
Because Norah had an idea of her own.
Julian Mercer had spent months exploiting Vincent’s fear of food.
May you like
Perhaps it was time to make him underestimate the woman in the kitchen.
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