Chapter 264: Chapter 264
Chapter 264
The torrential French rain slammed against the glass panes of the coastal villa, drowning out the sharp metallic scraping sounds coming from the lower conservatory. Isabelle gripped the heavy iron fireplace poker with both hands, her palms slick with sweat as she jammed the cold wedge between the aged wooden door frame and the rusted iron latch. She threw her entire body weight behind the tool, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts as the wood finally splintered with a dull snap.
The door swung inward, letting in a gust of frigid maritime wind that sprayed rainwater across her face. Isabelle didn't hesitate for a single second. She tossed the heavy poker onto the stone floor and darted out into the dark, storm-drenched estate gardens, keeping her head down as she navigated the slippery terraced path.
Her heart hammered violently against her ribs as she pushed past the thick marble statues and manicured hedge mazes, her bare feet cutting into the sharp gravel steps.
She could hear the distant roar of the ocean crashing against the rocky cliffs below the estate, but her eyes were glued to the far perimeter of the property. Just fifty yards down the winding stone staircase lay the maintenance gate a small, secondary iron door that maintenance crews used to haul lawn equipment up from the public coastal highway. If she could just reach that gate and slip onto the access road, she could hitch a ride to the local train station in Nice before Sam realized she was gone.
Drenched to the bone, her thin cotton dress clinging to her shivering frame, Isabelle reached the bottom of the terrace steps and lunged toward the heavy iron gate.
But the moment her fingers touched the wet metal latch, the bright glare of two high-powered flashlights cut through the darkness, blinding her completely. Isabelle gasped, stumbling backward on the wet stone as three figures stepped out from the shadows of the stone security archway. Standing directly in the center was Madame Laroche, holding an umbrella over her silk coat, flanked by two towering, armed private security guards wearing dark rain jackets.
Madame Laroche did not flinch, nor did her stern, wrinkled face show a single trace of pity or surprise as she stared down at the trembling girl. She casually lowered her umbrella slightly, adjusting her gold spectacles with an air of absolute indifference.
“Running away in ze middle of ze night, mademoiselle?” Madame Laroche said, her thick French accent sharp, precise, and completely devoid of warmth. “And in such terrible weather too. How very foolish of you.”
“Please, Madame Laroche, you have to help me,” Isabelle begged, her voice shaking violently as she stepped forward, reaching out a trembling hand toward the older woman. Tears mixed with the cold rain pouring down her cheeks as she pointed back toward the main house. “Sam is keeping me here against my will! He’s a dangerous liar! He stole my life, he lied to my friends, and he’s holding me hostage in this villa. Please, just let me open this gate. I won't tell anyone you helped me, I promise you!”
Madame Laroche let out a dry, dismissive sigh, shaking her head as if listening to a spoiled child throw a meaningless tantrum. “You speak so much nonsense, little girl. You talk about hostages and lies like you are in some dramatic cinema film.”
“It’s not a movie! It’s the truth!” Isabelle cried out, stepping closer despite the two armed guards shifting their weight forward. “Sam manipulated everything! He had people arrested, he destroyed lives in Monterey, and he brought me to France so I couldn't expose what he did! If you have any heart at all, please, just turn around and let me leave!”
Madame Laroche took a slow step forward, her sharp eyes locking onto Isabelle with a look of absolute coldness that made Isabelle’s blood run cold. “Do you really sink I care about your little stories, Isabelle? Do you sink I am stupid?”
Isabelle blinked, the breath catching in her throat. “What?”
“I know exactly who Mr. Keystone is,” Madame Laroche replied smoothly, her voice dropping into a harsh, icy whisper. “I know what kind of business he conducts, and I know how he handles people who cross him. But more importantly, Mr. Keystone pays me fifty thousand euros a month to manage this estate and ensure his private matters remain private. Do you really sink I would throw away my fortune and my security for a disobedient, ungrateful girl like you?”
“He’s using you just like he uses everyone else!” Isabelle yelled through the pouring rain, her anger rising over her fear. “He’s a monster!”
“He is a powerful man who provides you with a life most women in ze world could only dream of,” Madame Laroche spat back, her eyes narrowing in disgust as she motioned toward Isabelle’s drenched dress. “Look at you. Foolish, weak, and weeping in ze mud. Girls like you should be grateful for a luxurious cage. Instead, you break my doors and make a mess of my gardens.”
“I will never be grateful to him!” Isabelle screamed, making a desperate, sudden dash toward the iron latch of the gate.
Before her fingers could even graze the handle, the two security guards stepped in effortlessly. One guard grabbed Isabelle roughly by her upper arms, pinning her back against the wet stone wall, while the second guard stepped between her and the exit. Isabelle thrashed wildly, kicking and screaming against the guard's grip, but his hold was like iron.
“Let me go! Get your hands off me!” Isabelle sobbed, fighting with every ounce of strength left in her exhausted body.
Madame Laroche didn't even blink as she watched the struggle. She turned to the guards with a sharp flick of her wrist. “Take her down to ze lower wine cellar in ze bunker wing. Strip off those wet shoes so she cannot run on ze stone floors, and lock ze steel storm door from ze outside.”
“No! Please! Not down there!” Isabelle screamed as the guard lifted her off her feet, dragging her backward up the muddy garden steps toward the villa’s lower basement levels. “Madame Laroche, please!”
Madame Laroche completely ignored her cries, turning her back on the scene as the guards hauled Isabelle away into the darkness. She reached inside her dry silk coat, pulled out a encrypted satellite mobile phone, and dialed Sam Keystone’s private direct line, holding the device to her ear as she walked calmly back toward the warmth of the main house.