The Stolen Daughter and the Dark Truth Behind a Billionaire Wedding
I pressed the keys.
Four. Eight. Nine. Two.
The light turned green with a soft click, and the heavy doors slid open.
Inside, the elevator was cold and smelled of bleach.
I stepped inside and pressed the button for the sub-basement.
The elevator shuddered, then began its slow descent into the earth.
I watched the floor indicator light blink.
G. B1. B2.
The elevator stopped with a heavy thud, but the doors did not open immediately.
A red light began to flash on the control panel above my head.
A mechanical hum filled the small metal box, followed by the sound of a lock grinding into place.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
I looked down at the screen, my breath catching in my throat.
It was an alert from the estate’s automated security network.
The screen read: *Incursion detected. Sub-level quarantine initiated.*
The light above the keypad remained a solid, angry red.
I tapped my earpiece.
“Marcus, do you copy?” I said.
My voice was a low whisper in the metal cage of the elevator.
The static buzzed for a second before his voice came through.