Chapter 34 The Final Countdown

Chapter 34 The Final Countdown
The morning of the Roosevelt Gala came with a heavy, quiet stillness. Inside the master suite, the air conditioner hummed softly, but Lyara still felt like she couldn’t breathe. She stood in front of the mirror, staring at a woman she barely recognized. The sapphire blue gown was finally done. It hugged her body and fell gently over her three-month baby bump, making her look like the perfect, glowing wife of a billionaire.

But behind her eyes, there was only cold, quiet intent.

Mikael was in the ensuite bathroom. She could hear the sound of the shower running. This was her only chance. She moved quickly, her bare feet silent on the marble floor. She knelt by the vanity and reached for the silver grate of the floor vent. With a steady hand, she popped it open and pulled out the burner phone.

She checked the screen. One new message.

“10:00 PM. The lights will go out. Don’t hesitate. The West Wing door will be unlocked for exactly sixty seconds. Go.”

Lyara memorized the words, then deleted the message. She shoved the phone into a hidden pocket she had asked the designer to sew into the thick silk of her gown. It was a risk, but she couldn't leave it in the room. If she escaped, she needed that phone to find the plane. She snapped the vent back into place just as the shower stopped.

She sat down and smoothed her gown. A few moments later, Mikael walked out, a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked at her, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of the woman who had fought him in the office three days ago.

"You look calm," Mikael noted. He walked over to her, his wet skin smelling of expensive soap.
“I’ve realized there’s no point in being anything else,” Lyara said, her voice flat and controlled. “Today is a big day for you. I won’t ruin it.”

Mikael smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He reached out and tilted her chin up. "It’s a big day for us, Lyara. Tonight, the world stops asking questions. They will see the Roosevelt heir, they will see my beautiful wife, and they will forget everything else. By tomorrow morning, the kidnapping rumors will be dead."

"I hope so," Lyara whispered.

Mikael kissed her forehead. "I’ve arranged for your mother to be moved to the main ballroom’s observation lounge. She can watch the event behind the glass with a private nurse. I want her to see you on that stage."

Lyara’s heart beating fast against her ribs. He was moving her mother. That made things harder, but it also made the West Wing easier to access if she could just get her mother out of that lounge. "Thank you, Mikael. That’s very thoughtful."

"I told you," Mikael said as he walked toward his dressing room. "When you play your part, I am a generous man."

By 7:00 PM, the Roosevelt Manor was transformed. Thousands of white roses lined the hallways, their scent so strong it was almost sickening. Hundreds of guests in black ties and evening gowns began to fill the grand ballroom. The sound of a live orchestra competed with the chatter of the city’s most powerful people.

Lyara stood at the top of the grand staircase. Mikael stood beside her, looking every bit the powerful king of his empire. He wore a tuxedo that probably cost more than Lyara’s old house. He gripped her hand, his fingers lacing through hers with a strength that was meant to show the world they were united.
"Smile, Lyara," he whispered under his breath.

She smiled. It was a perfect, vacant expression.

As they went down the stairs, the flashes from dozens of cameras blinded her. Reporters shouted questions, but Mikael’s security team pushed them back.

In the crowd, Lyara noticed Silas. He stood near the entrance to the kitchens, his eyes fixed on her. There was a quiet threat in his stare. He hadn’t forgotten the punch in the office—and he clearly blamed her for the humiliation.
They reached the ballroom floor. Mikael was immediately surrounded by investors and politicians. He played the part of the charming host perfectly. He laughed, he shook hands, and he kept Lyara tucked firmly against his side.

"Mrs. Roosevelt, you look radiant," a woman in diamonds said, leaning in. "Is it true you’re having a boy?"

"We’re just happy the baby is healthy," Lyara replied, repeating the line Mikael had made her memorize.
As the woman moved on, Lyara caught a glimpse of a new face in the crowd. A woman was walking through the grand doors, her presence causing a sudden hush in the room. She was wearing a dress of dark, obsidian silk, and her head was held high.

It was Isabella Vanderbilt.

The room held its breath. Everyone knew what had happened. They knew Mikael had tossed her aside for Lyara. Isabella didn’t look like a woman in mourning. She looked dangerous. Behind her, entering quietly through a side door, was Eleanor Roosevelt.

Mikael’s grip on Lyara’s hand tightened so hard her bones creaked. His entire body went rigid.

"What are they doing here?" Mikael hissed.

"You invited the Vanderbilts, Mikael," Lyara said softly. "It would have been a scandal if they didn't show up."
Isabella walked straight toward them. She didn't look at Mikael. She looked at Lyara. Her eyes were like shards of glass.

“Isabella,” Mikael said, his voice low and cold.

“Mikael,” Isabella replied, her voice calm and steady. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. It’s such a… revealing event.”

She turned to Lyara. "You look beautiful, Lyara. That sapphire blue is very fitting. It’s the color of a deep, dark ocean. The kind of place things get lost in."

"Thank you, Isabella," Lyara said.

Isabella leaned in, as if to kiss Lyara’s cheek. In a voice that only Lyara could hear, she whispered, "The plane is fueled. Don't trip on your hem."

Isabella pulled away, giving Mikael a sharp, cold smile before disappearing into the crowd to talk to a group of Board members.

Mikael was shaking with rage. "Silas!" he barked.

Silas appeared instantly. "Sir?"

"Watch my mother and Isabella. If they go near the stage or the server room, remove them. I don't care about the cameras."

"Understood, sir."

The night dragged on. Every minute felt like an eternity for Lyara. She checked the clock on the wall.
9:30 PM.

Mikael was called to the stage for the keynote speech. This was the moment he would officially announce his new projects and "re-introduce" Lyara to his investors. He led her to the front row, seating her next to a group of friendly Board members.

"I’ll be up there for twenty minutes," Mikael told her. "Silas is behind you. Don't move."

"I'll be right here," Lyara said.

Mikael walked up the steps to the podium. The lights in the ballroom dimmed, and a spotlight hit him. He began to speak about legacy, about the Roosevelt name, and about the future. He looked powerful. He looked untouchable.
Lyara looked at the watch on the wrist of the man sitting next to her.

9:45 PM.

She felt a bead of sweat roll down her back. She looked toward the kitchens. She saw a maid—the one who had replaced Marta—give her a quick nod. The maid was holding a tray of champagne, but she was positioned near the West Wing corridor.

9:50 PM.

Mikael was talking about the new film production. "This project represents the heart of the Roosevelt vision," he told the crowd. "A story of resilience and strength."

Lyara reached into her pocket and gripped the burner phone. Her palms were wet. She looked up at the observation lounge. She could see her mother’s silhouette behind the glass. Elena was sitting in a wheelchair, a nurse standing behind her.

9:55 PM.

Isabella Vanderbilt was no longer in her seat. Neither was Eleanor.

Lyara looked at Silas. He was distracted, looking at a group of men near the back of the room who seemed to be arguing. He stepped away from Lyara’s chair to investigate.

9:58 PM.

Lyara stood up slowly. The woman next to her looked up. "Are you alright, dear?"

"I just need some air," Lyara whispered. "The flowers are a bit much."

"Of course. Do you need help?"

"No, I’ll just be a moment."

Lyara walked toward the side of the ballroom. She moved with a slow, heavy gait, making sure she looked like a tired pregnant woman and not someone escaping. She reached the shadow of a large marble pillar.

9:59 PM.

Mikael was finishing his speech. "And so, I invite you all to look at the screen. We have a special presentation regarding the future of our family."

Mikael looked toward the tech booth. He was smiling. He thought the screen was going to show a montage of him and Lyara. He didn't know Isabella had already replaced the file.

Lyara reached the door to the West Wing corridor. She put her hand on the handle. It was locked.

Her heart stopped. Had Eleanor lied?

She looked at her watch. The seconds were ticking down.

10... 9... 8...

She pulled the handle again. Nothing.

7... 6... 5...

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around, gasping. It was Silas. His face was twisted into a sneer of triumph.

"Going somewhere, Lyara?" Silas hissed. He gripped her arm, his fingers digging into her skin. "I told you I’d be watching."

"Let go of me, Silas!"

"I don't think so. You're coming back to your seat. And after the party, you and I are going to have a very long talk about your little friends in Switzerland."

4... 3... 2...

Lyara looked at Silas, then at the podium where Mikael was raising a glass for a toast.

1...

"To the future!" Mikael shouted.

At that exact moment, a loud, metallic clunk echoed through the entire mansion.

The spotlight on Mikael flickered and died. The massive crystal chandeliers above the guests hummed for a split second before the glass went dark. The digital screens on the stage turned into black voids. Total darkness swallowed the Roosevelt Manor.

The music stopped. The chatter turned into a collective gasp of confusion.

"Mikael?" someone shouted.

"Stay calm!" Mikael’s voice boomed from the stage, though he sounded panicked. "It’s just a fuse! Silas! Get the backup generators on!"

In the pitch black, Lyara felt Silas’s grip loosen for a fraction of a second as he reached for his radio.
She didn't wait. She used every bit of strength she had to shove him back. She heard him hit the marble pillar with a grunt of pain.

She turned to the door and pulled with everything she had.

Click.

The lock clicked open. The secondary security system had cut the electronic bolts.

Lyara pushed the door open and stepped into the dark corridor, the heavy silk of her gown rustling in the silence.
“LYARA!” Mikael’s voice roared from the ballroom, raw and desperate. “LYARA, WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Sixty seconds.

The countdown to her life had finally begun.