Chapter 5 - The Glass Room

The grand dining room was filled with thirty of New York's most powerful bio-tech investors, corporate lawyers, and politicians. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over linen table settings and towering floral arrangements.

Arthur sat at the head of the long mahogany table, holding court, laughing loudly at jokes made by state senators.

Marcus Kane stood near the heavy oak double doors of the room, scanning the guests with cold, hawk-like intensity.

I sat near the middle of the table, Alex sitting quietly beside me, coloring on a paper placemat with a blue crayon.

To anyone else, it looked like a standard elite Manhattan gathering. But beneath the surface, a deadly game of chess was being played.

At 7:45 PM, Arthur stood up, clearing his throat and tapping his silver spoon against his crystal glass.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Arthur began, his voice commanding the absolute attention of the room. "Thank you all for joining me tonight. Four months ago, my heart was shattered by the tragic loss of my brilliant daughter, Emma..."

While the room turned its attention to Arthur’s emotional performance, Elizabeth quietly slipped out of her chair, sliding behind a velvet curtain near the side terrace entrance.

I glanced at my watch. 7:46 PM. The six-minute security loop had begun.

I looked back at the doors.

Marcus Kane was no longer standing by the entrance.

My blood ran cold.

I scanned the room frantically. The heavy oak doors were slowly closing. Kane had slipped out into the grand hallway moments after Elizabeth disappeared.

He was following her.

"Daddy?" Alex whispered, dropping his blue crayon onto the tablecloth. "The ring man went away."

"Stay here, Alex," I whispered, setting my napkin on the table. "Stay right with Senator Hayes. Do not move."

I stood up, stepping quietly back out toward the main foyer, slipping my hand into my jacket pocket where a heavy steel pen sat.

I rushed down the dimly lit service corridor leading toward the old stone staircase. The air grew colder with every step, turning from polished home luxury to damp, ancient stone.

As I reached the top of the winding stone steps where Emma had died, I heard the sound of a heavy struggle from the dark landing below.

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"You should have stayed in hiding, Dr. Vance," Marcus Kane’s deep, cold voice echoed off the damp stone walls.

I sprinted down the steps.