My daughter choked out, “Dad, help,” moments before the call went completely silent. I raced down the highway at 100 mph, driving straight toward her in-laws’ mansion. When I got there, my son-in-law stood across the porch, holding a baseball bat with a smug grin on his face. “This is a private family matter,” he said icily. “Your daughter needed to be disciplined.”

My lungs burned as the yellow gas filled the enclosed foyer.

I had exactly ninety seconds before my nervous system completely shut down.

I dropped to my knees, knowing the air would be slightly cleaner closer to the floor.

I crawled toward a massive antique bookshelf against the right wall.

Every wealthy family with a security system this advanced had a manual override or a panic room.

I felt along the wooden panels behind the heavy books.

My fingers brushed against a tiny metal latch hidden behind a leather-bound encyclopedia.

I pulled the latch with all my remaining strength.

The entire bookshelf clicked and swung outward.

I threw myself into the narrow, dark corridor hidden behind the walls.

I quickly pulled the bookshelf shut, cutting off the toxic gas just in time.

I laid on the cold concrete floor, coughing violently as clean air rushed back into my lungs.

The secret passageway was narrow and smelled like damp earth.

I stood up and used a small lighter from my pocket to illuminate the space.

A steep set of wooden stairs led upward into the darkness.

I climbed the stairs silently, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.

The stairs ended at a wooden panel with small viewing holes drilled into it.

I peeked through the holes and realized I was looking into the master bedroom.

Miriam Thorne was pacing nervously across the thick carpet.

She was holding a small silver pistol in her trembling hands.

"They are going to ruin everything," she muttered to herself.

I kicked the wooden panel hard, shattering it into pieces.

I stumbled into the bedroom and grabbed her wrist before she could aim the gun.

I pinned her against the expensive wallpaper.

"Where is my daughter?" I growled.

Miriam dropped the gun and started laughing hysterically.

"You really think Audrey is the victim in all of this?" she asked.

I pressed my forearm tighter against her collarbone.

"Tell me where she is."

"Your precious Audrey discovered our offshore accounts," Miriam whispered.

"She wasn't trying to run away from Julian tonight."

Miriam leaned closer, her eyes wide with terror.

"She was trying to steal twenty million dollars from the cartel we work for."

I froze, my mind struggling to process the impossible accusation.

Suddenly, a massive explosion of glass shattered the bedroom window.

A high-caliber sniper bullet tore through the room.

The bullet struck Miriam directly in the chest.

“Which daughter is yours?” should have been a harmless question

The first wineglass shattered at 8:07 p.m

The moment the mafia boss’s wife called me “an illiterate servant,”

She collapsed instantly onto the floor, choking on her own blood.

I dove behind the heavy oak bed frame as a red laser sight swept rapidly across the dark room.

Chapter 3 - The Secret in the Walls