Chapter 4

I was trapped down there for what felt like an eternity.

Aside from a silent maid who occasionally cracked the door open just wide enough to drop two bottles of water and a few pieces of stale bread, there was no sign of life.

No matter how hard I screamed for help, only hollow echoes answered.

Eventually, the bread and water ran out. More days blurred by. I didn't even have the strength left to stand up.

Finally, footsteps sounded above my head.

A maid’s terrified voice drifted through the floorboards:

"Miss Vance, are we really doing this while Mr. Vance is out of town for business?"

"He only said to teach her a lesson. By his orders, we were supposed to let her out two days ago! If Mr. Vance finds out about this, we’ll..."

SLAP!

Lana smacked the maid across the face.

Her shrill, hateful voice cut through the air:

"What 'Mrs. Vance'? You dare call that bitch Mrs. Vance in front of me?! In this house, I am the only mistress!"

"If you're scared, shut your mouth and pour the gasoline! Make sure it burns hot and fast. Once Chloe is reduced to ashes, what can Julian do? Him and the kid will be mine forever anyway!"

The maid was trembling, but after Lana kicked her, she began sloshing the liquid around.

My blood ran cold. I dragged myself up against the wall, trembling violently.

Through the ringing in my ears, I heard the splashing liquid, and then gasoline began dripping down through the cracks of the trapdoor.

I gathered every last shred of strength in my lungs and screamed:

"Lana! What are you doing?! Arson is murder!"

"Help! Somebody help me! She’s trying to burn me alive!"

Lana stomped her high heel on the iron door above and laughed coldly:

"Save your breath. The door is padlocked from the outside. You brought this on yourself. If you had just signed the papers and walked away, I would’ve let you live. But you had to fight me for Julian and Leo? You don't deserve either of them!"

"Burn in hell, bitch!"

CLICK.

A lighter flicked. The crackle of flames followed immediately.

Lana let out a pleased giggle.

Once she made sure the fire had caught, she sprinted toward the front gates, screaming in mock terror:

"Fire! Somebody help! The house is on fire!"

Accelerated by the gasoline, the flames spread like wild beasts. Thick, suffocating smoke poured into the basement.

I didn't want to die. I threw my entire weight against the iron door, pounding, pushing, ramming it until my fingernails cracked and bled.

The door didn't budge an inch.

Toxic smoke filled my lungs. Soon, I couldn't even scream. I could barely take half a breath.

My body gave out, and I slid down the charred concrete wall.

My vision blurred. A carousel of my life’s memories began flashing before my dying eyes.

Just as I prepared to close my eyes for the last time, a familiar scratching sound echoed above.

The trapdoor was shoved aside by a tiny, trembling force.

Leo’s soot-stained face appeared through the smoke. He reached down with a little hand covered in gasoline, crying out with all his might:

"Mommy, hurry!"

"Leo is getting you out!"

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away in the corporate conference room of the Vance Group’s regional branch.

Julian’s assistant, Mark, burst through the double doors without knocking, not even waiting for Julian to ask what was wrong.

His face was pale as a ghost as he shouted:

"Mr. Vance, your estate is on fire!"

"The blaze is out of control! Your wife... she didn't make it out! And Leo is trapped inside with her!"