Chapter 3 - The Uninvited Guest
Andrew stared at the disconnected phone in absolute disbelief.
His security chief, a man who had survived three tours of combat, had just been silenced in his own office.
The realization hit Andrew like a physical blow to the chest.
Whoever was running the Evergreen Institute was willing to kill anyone who asked questions.
And right now, the only living witness to their secrets was sitting on his living room sofa.
Andrew immediately engaged the penthouse's advanced lockdown protocols from his smartphone.
Heavy steel shutters silently descended over the floor-to-ceiling windows, sealing them off from the Chicago skyline.
The reinforced titanium deadbolts on the main doors slammed into place with a definitive, mechanical click.
He rushed to his bedroom closet and pulled out a heavy duffel bag he kept for emergencies.
He packed it rapidly with cash, encrypted hard drives, and a licensed firearm he had never expected to use.
He returned to the living room and told Ethan they needed to leave immediately.
Ethan did not argue, his survival instincts already pushing him off the sofa and toward the door.
Just as Andrew slung the heavy bag over his shoulder, a soft chime echoed through the penthouse.
It was the gentle, automated bell of the private executive elevator.
Andrew froze, knowing he had just locked down the entire system.
Only one other person in the world possessed the master override codes required to bypass his personal security.
The polished steel doors of the elevator slid gracefully open.
Richard Vance stepped out into the foyer, brushing imaginary dust off his tailored Italian suit.
Vance was Andrew's oldest friend, his business partner, and the vice president of the entire Whitman empire.
He smiled warmly, holding a bottle of impossibly expensive scotch in his right hand.
Vance casually mentioned that he was in the neighborhood and saw the lockdown shutters activate from the street.
He stepped further into the penthouse, his eyes sweeping the room with a calculated, predatory slowness.
Andrew subtly stepped in front of Ethan, shielding the boy's small body from view.
Vance poured himself a drink at the bar, not bothering to ask for permission.
He took a slow sip, letting the burning liquid linger before offering a cruel, knowing smile.
He asked Andrew if it was true what the security guards had reported over the radio earlier that evening.
May you like
Vance set the glass down on the marble counter with a sharp, echoing clink.
He tilted his head and politely asked Andrew to hand over the stray dog he had picked up in the rain.
