Chapter 5 - Shadows in the Hallway
Over the next few days, a strange routine established itself at Blackwood Manor. Mikey refused to attend his lessons unless I sat in the back of the classroom. His tutor, an elderly, strict man named Mr. Abernathy, frowned at my presence, but Julian had given the order to allow it.
During the afternoons, I took Mikey out into the courtyard. For the first time, the sound of a child’s laughter echoed through the grim stone walls of the estate. We played tag, threw a makeshift baseball, and picked wild flowers from the edges of the manicured lawns.
From the second-floor study window, I could often see a dark silhouette standing behind the glass. Julian was always watching. He never joined us, but he never stopped looking.
One night, around 2:00 AM, I woke up to a strange sound. It was a faint, rhythmic clicking noise coming from the hallway.
Thoroughly alert, I slipped out of bed, keeping my movements silent. I opened my door a crack. The hallway was dark, illuminated only by the pale moonlight filtering through the high windows.
A figure was standing outside Mikey’s door. It wasn't Marco, and it wasn't Julian. This man was smaller, wearing the uniform of the night security staff, but he was doing something to the electronic lock on Mikey’s door. He held a small black device that was flashing green.
My breath hitched. A kidnapping attempt. Julian hadn't been exaggerating.
I didn't think. I grabbed a heavy brass candlestick from a small table near my door, crept up behind the man, and swung it with all the strength I had.
The heavy brass connected with the side of his head with a sickening thud. The man groaned, stumbling backward into the wall before collapsing onto the carpet, the black electronic device slipping from his fingers.
Before I could even scream, the lights in the hallway flared to life.
Within seconds, Marco appeared from around the corner, a silenced pistol raised in his hand. Behind him came Julian, wearing a silk robe, his eyes wide with an emotion I hadn't seen in him yet: pure, unadulterated panic.
Marco immediately dropped to one knee, checking the pulse of the unconscious guard. “He’s alive, sir. It’s Thomas. He was hired three weeks ago to replace the night shift.”
Julian didn't look at the guard. He strode past him, grabbed my shoulders, and pulled me back, his eyes frantically scanning my face and body. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you? Did he get to Michael?”
“I-I’m fine,” I stammered, my hands shaking so violently I dropped the candlestick. “He was trying to bypass the lock. I hit him.”
Julian looked down at the brass candlestick on the floor, then at the unconscious traitor, and finally back at me. For a split second, the cold, ruthless billionaire disappeared. In his eyes, I saw a terrifying vulnerability. He was a father who had almost lost his child tonight.
“Marco,” Julian said, his voice shaking with a cold fury that made the air freeze. “Take this garbage to the basement. Find out who paid him. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” Marco said, dragging the unconscious man away effortlessly.
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Julian turned back to me. His hands were still on my shoulders, warm and surprisingly gentle. “You protected him,” he whispered, as if trying to understand the concept. “You could have hidden in your room. You could have let them take him.”
“I told you,” I said, looking up into his dark eyes, my heart hammering from the adrenaline. “I don’t leave him alone.”
