Chapter 283: Chapter 283

Chapter 283

The heavy iron deadbolts clunked open with a sharp, echoing snap that resonated through the cold basement room. Isabelle sat on the edge of the narrow cot with her back turned to the door, keeping her face pressed toward the blank stone wall.

She did not bother looking up at first, assuming it was just Madame Laroche or one of Sam’s guards bringing another meal tray she had no intention of touching. She rolled her shoulders back and braced herself, preparing to turn around and hit them with the same cold, quiet glare she had offered every single person on Sam’s payroll since they brought her here.

When she slowly turned on the mattress to face the entryway, the harsh words trapped in her throat died on her tongue. The cold anger in her posture vanished completely, replaced by an immediate, breathless shock that locked every joint in her body.

Standing in the open doorway was not Laroche, nor was it any of the armed security detail patrolling the estate grounds. It was Ethan.

Isabelle froze, her hands gripping the rough blanket on the cot so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her chest hitched as her eyes swept over him, taking in every single detail of his state. He looked completely worn out, his jaw purple with dark bruising, his face pale and sunken from exhaustion. He leaned heavily against the iron doorframe just to keep his feet underneath him, his breathing ragged and uneven as he held her gaze.

An endless silence stretched across the small cell as they stared at each other. For days, Isabelle had sat alone in this dark room, staring at the flash drive until her eyes burned, processing every single lie she had been fed about her past. She had spent weeks believing Ethan was the enemy, the villain who had torn her life apart. Yet here he was, looking like he could collapse onto the concrete floor at any second, having tracked her across an entire ocean just to get to her.

"Ethan..." the name rasped out of her throat, barely louder than a whisper, as hot tears stung the corners of her eyes.

Before he could even open his mouth to answer, Isabelle was on her feet. She closed the short distance between them in two fast strides, not wasting a single second to ask how he got past the guards or how he found the estate. She reached out and grabbed his arm, feeling the chill radiating right through his jacket, and looked him straight in the eyes with absolute focus.

"We have to move," she said, her voice shaking slightly but holding a firm, unshakable edge. "Right now."

She tucked the small black flash drive deep into the inside pocket of her denim jacket, pulled Ethan’s arm over her shoulder to support his weight, and steered him straight out into the dark, empty corridor.

Ethan leaned on her heavily, his legs trembling as they crossed the threshold of the cell. He tried to keep his steps light, but the sheer effort of staying upright was taking everything he had. "The loading dock," he managed to breathe out, his voice hoarse. "There's a service stairwell at the end of this hall. It leads straight up to the kitchen back exit."

Isabelle didn't answer with words; she just tightened her grip around his waist and kept moving. The basement corridor was deathly quiet, save for the hum of the old overhead water pipes. They passed the unconscious security guard Ethan had knocked out earlier, his body still slumping motionless against the concrete wall. Isabelle glanced down at the man, taking in the dropped flashlight and the heavy wrench lying beside him, and realized just how much of a miracle it was that Ethan had even made it to her door.

Meanwhile, two floors above them in the villa's main office, Sam Keystone stood by the wide glass windows overlooking the estate garden. The morning rain was still light, tapping gently against the glass as he swirled a glass of scotch in his right hand. On his wide mahogany desk, a tablet sat displaying the front page of a major American news website. The bold black headline read: Ethan Castellan Announced Dead by Family.

A small, satisfied smile spread across Sam’s face as he stared at the screen. Everything was falling into place. With Ethan out of the picture, the Castellan empire would crumble into internal leadership battles, leaving the West Coast market wide open for his own company to take over. And downstairs in his cell, Isabelle had nowhere left to run. She would eventually realize she had no choices left, no allies coming to rescue her, and no option except to stay under his control.

"Sir," Madame Laroche’s voice came sharply through the intercom speaker on the desk, breaking his train of thought.

Sam didn't turn around, taking a slow sip of his drink instead. "What is it, Laroche? I told you I don't want to be disturbed until the afternoon meeting."

"It's the basement monitor, sir," Laroche said, her voice rising in pitch. "Guard station three isn't responding to radio checks. I just switched to the sub-level camera feeds—the cell door is open."

Sam froze. The glass of scotch stopped inches from his lips. "What did you just say?"

"The cell is empty, Mr. Keystone. The door is standing wide open, and the guard is down on the floor."

Sam slammed his glass onto the mahogany desk so hard the liquor splashed over his documents. He lunged for his desktop computer, punching in his master security code to pull up the live feeds. The screen flashed black for a second before revealing the empty stone hallway. The guard lay motionless on the ground, and the heavy oak door of Isabelle’s room swung loosely on its hinges.

"Lock down the estate!" Sam roared into the intercom, his calm posture completely vanishing into violent anger. "Seal every exit gate! Call the grounds crew, search every inch of the perimeter, and bring them back to me!"

Before Laroche could even reply, Sam reached over and slammed his fist down onto the red emergency button mounted beside his desk.

Instantly, the quiet morning inside the villa was shattered. High-pitched emergency sirens began to blare from every ceiling speaker across the entire property. Red strobe lights flashed against the stone walls of the hallways, echoing loudly through the stairwells and down into the subterranean levels.

Down in the service hallway, the sudden roar of the alarms made Ethan and Isabelle bolt forward. Red light bounced off the concrete walls around them, turning the narrow passage into a nightmare of flashing shadows.

"They know," Isabelle said, her heart hammering against her ribs as she dragged Ethan toward the metal fire door at the end of the hall. "Sam knows you're here."

Ethan pushed himself off her shoulder, using his own strength to shove open the heavy emergency exit bar. "Keep going," he shouted over the deafening noise of the sirens. "Don't stop for anything!"

They burst out through the rear service door, stepping straight out into the freezing morning air and the muddy grass of the estate grounds. Up on the main driveway, security vehicles were already starting their engines, headlights cutting through the light rain as guards shouted back and forth in French.

Isabelle took one fast look over her shoulder at the looming mansion, grabbed Ethan’s hand tightly in hers, and sprinted straight toward the dense treeline of the surrounding forest.