Chapter 86 The shattered silence
Chapter 86 The shattered silence
The quiet of the Sandton penthouse was a fragile thing, a thin sheet of glass that was about to be pulverized. Victor was still standing by the kitchen island, his brow furrowed as he watched the silent, tense exchange between Vane and his parents. The air was charged with a heavy, static electricity, the kind that precedes a lethal storm.
Then, the glass broke.
A sharp, guttural scream ripped through the hallway, originating from the master bedroom. It wasn't a cry of fear; it was a sound of primal, agonizing pain.
"Elena!" Victor shouted, nearly losing his balance as he grabbed his crutches and lunged toward the sound.
Vane was already moving, his instincts bypassing the suspicion he felt for Marcus and Eleanor. He sprinted down the hall, bursting into the room. Elena was doubled over on the edge of the bed, her face slick with sweat, her hands clutching her lower abdomen. She was gasping, her breath coming in short, panicked hitches.
"It’s... it’s starting," she wheezed, her eyes wide and clouded with pain. "The cramps... they’re too strong, Victor!"
Eleanor and Marcus stood in the doorway, their faces masks of cold composure that didn't quite reach their eyes. Eleanor’s gaze drifted to the bedside clock. Disappointment flickered across her features, a subtle twitch of the lips that Vane caught in the periphery of his vision. This wasn't supposed to happen now. The "complication" they had planned—the slow-acting herbal intervention—had been bypassed by nature itself. The baby was coming early, and with it, the chance to control the narrative was slipping through their fingers.
"We need to go! Now!" Vane commanded, sliding his arm under Elena’s shoulders. "Victor, grab the bag!"
Victor, despite his own physical struggle, moved with a frantic energy. "I’ve got her. Vane, help me get her to the car!"
In the chaos, Marcus and Eleanor swapped a look of pure disgust. The messy, loud reality of birth was an affront to their curated world of shadows. They followed the trio toward the elevator, their footsteps silent and predatory behind the frantic scramble of the younger men.
Vane didn't even have a second to breathe, let alone pull Victor aside to warn him about the silver sedan. Every time he opened his mouth, another contraction wracked Elena’s body, her cries filling the small space of the elevator. The elevator doors opened to the parking garage, and Vane practically threw the car into gear the moment they were inside.
The drive to the private hospital was a blur of screeching tires and red lights. Within minutes, they were at the emergency entrance. Orderlies rushed out with a gurney, and Elena was whisked away toward the labor ward, her hand white-knuckled as she gripped Victor’s arm.
"Vane!" Victor shouted over his shoulder as he ran alongside the gurney. "Call her mother! Call Maya! They need to be here!"
"On it!" Vane yelled back, standing in the middle of the sterile, white-tiled lobby.
He pulled out his phone, his hands shaking as he dialed Maya’s number. As the line rang, he moved toward a large potted plant, trying to put some distance between himself and the Blackwoods, who were standing near the admissions desk like dark sentinels.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eleanor move. She didn't head toward the labor ward. Instead, she slipped toward a quiet corridor near the cafeteria, her phone pressed to her ear.
Vane finished the call with Maya, his voice hushed as he explained the situation, but his eyes remained locked on Eleanor’s silhouette through the glass partition. He moved closer, sliding into the shadow of a vending machine.
"Hey, Goblet," Eleanor’s voice was a low, vibrating thread, stripped of all motherly pretense. "There is a mission to complete. The timing has shifted, but the objective remains. I’ll send you the hospital details and the ward number immediately. Be quick. I want this handled before the first cry."
She ended the call and smoothed her hair, her face returning to its mask of aristocratic concern as she turned back toward the waiting area. Vane felt a cold sweat break out across his back. Goblet. The name from the syndicate. The name Marcus had mentioned in the dark.
He moved back toward the standing benches just as Eleanor returned. She sat down with a sigh, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. Vane watched her from afar, his stomach churning. He was standing in a hospital meant for healing, but he was surrounded by people who dealt only in death.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. A text message.
Private Investigator: Found the driver. I have the location of the silver sedan and the man from the funeral. Let’s meet at the location pinned right now. We don't have much time.
Vane looked at the pin—it was a warehouse district only ten minutes away. He looked at the labor ward doors, then at Marcus, who was watching him with a hawk-like intensity. He couldn't stay here and wait for Goblet to arrive, but he couldn't leave Victor and Elena unprotected.
He had to get the evidence. If he could prove the connection between the man at the funeral and the Blackwoods right now, he could end this before Goblet reached the ward.
"Vane?" Marcus’s voice was sharp. "What are you doing? Victor is inside."
Vane forced a frantic, panicked expression onto his face. He looked at his phone, then back at Marcus, his breathing shallow.
"Mr. Blackwood... that was the penthouse security," Vane lied, his voice cracking with feigned stress. "The alarm system is malfunctioning because of the rush we were in. The backup power is tripping, and if it stays down, the server will wipe the night’s footage. I have to run back and reset the manual override. It’ll take me fifteen minutes."
Marcus narrowed his eyes, searching Vane’s face for a slip. "The security firm can’t handle it remotely?"
"No, sir. I’ve got the physical key-card for the server room on me," Vane said, patting his pocket. "If I don't go now, we lose the visual record of everything that happened this morning. I’ll be back before the baby is born, I promise."
Marcus looked at Eleanor, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod. To them, securing the footage—and ensuring any evidence of their morning arrival was handled—was a priority.
"Go," Marcus said, dismissively waving a hand. "But make it fast. Victor will want you be back soon."
"Yes, sir," Vane said, turning and sprinting toward the exit.
He didn't head for the penthouse. He ran straight for his car, the tires screaming as he tore out of the hospital parking lot. He had to meet the investigator. He had to see what was in that silver sedan.
As he sped toward the pinned location, the weight of the secret felt like it was crushing the car. Behind him, in the hospital, Elena was fighting to bring a life into the world. In front of him, Vane was fighting to stop the Blackwoods from taking it away.
He checked the time. Ten minutes. He just needed ten minutes to get the truth. But as the first thunderclap of a gathering storm echoed over the city, Vane realized that in the world of the Blackwoods, ten minutes was long enough for a kingdom to fall.