He picked up the flashlight as he retreated.

“You are making this very difficult for yourself, Vivian,” he said.

He stood on the bottom step, looking down at me.

“I did not want it to come to this,” he said.

“But you leave me no choice.”

“You cannot keep me down here,” I said, scrambling to my feet.

“The guests will notice I am gone.”

“Grace will look for me.”

Harrison shook his head.

“The gala is crowded,” he said.

“Beatrice will tell everyone you felt faint and retired to your room.”

“With your history of depression, no one will question it.”

He stepped up the first three steps.

“By tomorrow morning, the transfer will be complete,” he said.

“The Ashford Empire will be secure.”

“And you will be on your way to the clinic in Switzerland.”

“No!” I screamed.

I ran toward the stairs, but he was already too far up.

He reached the heavy iron door at the top of the steps.

It was the old security door that sealed the vault from the anteroom.

“Goodbye, Vivian,” he said.

He pulled the heavy door shut.