Chapter 7 - The Greenwich Fortress
The Sterling Estate in Greenwich was a sprawling stone manor surrounded by fifty acres of private forest, secured by a ten-foot iron fence and state-of-the-art thermal cameras.
In the sunlit master bedroom on the second floor, Evelyn sat in a comfortable armchair near the fireplace, a thick cashmere blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her color had returned, her cheeks pink, her breathing clear and effortless thanks to the high-tech medical care Julian had assembled.
Across the room, Laya sat on a plush velvet rug, playing with a massive wooden dollhouse that Julian had ordered delivered that morning. For the first time in her life, her hands were clean, her fingers warm, and her stomach full of warm soup and sweet pastries.
Julian stood by the window, holding two mugs of hot chocolate. He walked over, handing one to Evelyn and kneeling beside Laya to offer her the other.
"She hasn't asked about the trash bins once," Evelyn said softly, watching her daughter carefully stack mini furniture inside the dollhouse. "She still thinks we're going to be evicted tomorrow."
Julian took Laya’s hand, resting his thumb over her small knuckles. "No one is ever evicting you again, Laya. This is your home now. Yours and your mother’s."
Laya looked up from her dollhouse, her big hazel eyes searching Julian’s face. "Mister Julian?"
"You don't have to call me mister," Julian said gently. "You can call me Julian. Or... whatever feels comfortable."
Laya hesitated, her fingers curling around the warm mug. "Are we safe here? The bad man who chased me with the footsteps... he won't come through the window?"
Julian’s heart broke slightly at the residual fear in her voice. He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her securely. "No one will ever chase you again, Laya. I have ten big guards outside, and the house has walls made of heavy stone. I promise you, on my life, you are completely safe."
Suddenly, the lights in the room flickered once, twice, and went out entirely.
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The low hum of the estate’s generator failed to kick in. The electronic locks on the hallway doors clicked open automatically as part of the facility's safety fail-safe protocol.
Downstairs, the sharp sound of suppressed gunshots echoed through the grand foyer.
