Chapter 3 - The Sanctuary
The heavy steel gates of the Sterling compound rolled open, and the armored SUV pulled into the sprawling courtyard. Maya sprinted out of the front doors, completely ignoring Helen Vance’s frantic protests about her health. The rain soaked through her borrowed clothes instantly, but she didn't care.
When the passenger door opened and Clara stepped out, Maya broke down.
“Clara!” Maya sobbed, throwing her arms around the older woman’s neck. Clara hugged her back with surprising strength, burying her face in Maya’s wet hair.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” Clara wept, her hands tracing the bandages on Maya’s wrists. “Look what those monsters did to you.”
Victor watched the reunion from the shelter of the portico. His expression remained entirely unreadable, but his dark eyes tracked every movement. In his world, love was a liability. It was leverage to be exploited, a weakness to be targeted. Yet, watching the fierce, unbreakable bond between the young woman and her surrogate mother, he felt a strange, unfamiliar ache in his chest.
“Get them inside before they catch pneumonia,” Victor ordered smoothly, stepping aside to let the medical team rush past.
Dr. Aris immediately took charge of Clara, escorting her to a state-of-the-art medical suite in the east wing to monitor her heart condition. Maya refused to leave her side until she saw Clara peacefully asleep on a plush hospital bed, connected to a steady IV of fluids.
Only then did Maya walk into Victor’s private study. The room was vast, lined with mahogany bookshelves and smelling of expensive leather and aged scotch. Victor was standing behind his massive desk; Marcus was beside him.
Maya reached into the pocket of her damp sweater and pulled out the small, black SD card. She set it on the polished wood of the desk.
“Everything you need is right there,” Maya said, her voice steady despite her exhaustion. “Julian planning the coup. The routing numbers he mentioned. The names of your captains who turned on you.”
May you like
Victor picked up the memory card, rolling it between his fingers. “You held onto this through eleven days of torture. Most hardened syndicate enforcers would have broken in two.”
“I’m not a syndicate enforcer,” Maya replied, meeting his intense gaze. “I’m just a woman who refuses to be a victim ever again.”
