Chapter 2 - THE GRAVE IN THE CONSERVATORY
The sedative hit Gabriel fast. Within minutes of drinking the hot chocolate, the boy’s head slumped heavily against the velvet cushions of the sofa, his eyelids fluttering shut as unconsciousness dragged him down.
Elena didn't hesitate. She knew that waiting meant death—for Gabriel, and for her.
Moving with desperate, silent precision, she darted into the drawing room, scooped the limp, lightweight body of the six-year-old into her arms, and bolted toward the service exit. But the estate was already compromised. Heavy boots echoed down the corridor. Vivienne’s private enforcers had spotted her.
“Stop right there!” a voice roared behind her.
Elena pushed through the heavy oak doors, plunging into the freezing, rain-soaked night air of the Vescari gardens. Mud sucked at her sensible work shoes, and the biting wind whipped her hair across her face, but adrenaline fueled every fiber of her being. She headed straight for the abandoned conservatory—a sprawling, glass-paned relic choked with overgrown vines and dead foliage.
She made it to the rear excavation site—the newly dug drainage trench beneath the collapsed greenhouse structure.
Before she could lower Gabriel into a safe pocket of the trench to hide him from her pursuers, heavy hands grabbed her shoulders.
“Got her,” a brute of an enforcer grunted, wrenching Elena away from the boy.
Elena fought like a cornered lioness, kicking and screaming, but she was overpowered instantly. Another man scooped up the unconscious boy.
“No! Leave him alone!” Elena shrieked, her voice tearing through the storm.
“You should have stayed invisible, maid,” the lead enforcer hissed, dragging her toward the open grave.
They didn't give her a trial. They didn't give her a chance to speak. With brutal efficiency, they bound Elena’s hands with thick zip-ties, threw her into the damp, freshly excavated earth of the trench, and began shoveling wet, heavy soil over her kicking legs.
May you like
“Bury them both,” a cold voice echoed from the shadows of the greenhouse. Vivienne stood under an umbrella, watching the execution with chilling indifference. “Make it look like she tried to flee with the boy and the earth gave way.”
As the suffocating darkness of wet mud closed over Elena’s face, sealing her air supply, the last thing she heard was the frantic, muffled cry of a waking child before the heavy sod muffled the world into eternal silence.
