Chapter 5 - The Hunter and the Prey
Julian stepped into the main cellar room, the hunting knife in his hand reflecting the dim light of the security monitors. He stopped when he saw the uncovered monitors and Sarah’s journal lying on the floor.
A cold, mocking laugh escaped his lips. "Well, well. It seems our little maid was a rat after all. A Monroe. I thought I recognized that irritating, self-righteous glare. Too bad she couldn't save her brother, and now, she couldn't save you."
He kicked the desk over, the monitors shattering against the stone floor in a shower of sparks.
"Emily, come out," he said, turning his head slowly, his eyes scanning the dark alcoves of the wine cellar. "The longer we play this game, the more painful it’s going to be when I find you. Just let it go. It’s sixty million dollars. You were always too soft for that kind of money anyway."
I stood behind a massive oak wine cask, my knuckles white around the hammer. I had to time this perfectly. He was stronger, faster, and armed with a knife. If I missed my first strike, I would die.
He walked past the cask, his eyes focused on the far corner of the cellar.
I lunged.
With every ounce of strength left in my bruised, pregnant body, I swung the hammer down toward his right temple.
Julian’s survival instincts were inhumanly fast. He flinched, the hammer missing his head and striking his shoulder with a sickening crunch. He let out a sharp cry of pain, dropping the knife as his right arm went limp.
But before he could fall, he lunged with his left hand, grabbing my throat and slamming me against the wine cask.
I gasped for air, the hammer slipping from my fingers. Julian's face was twisted in an ugly, demonic rage, his left hand squeezing my windpipe as his injured right arm hung uselessly at his side.
"You miserable bitch!" Julian hissed, his spit hitting my face. "I was going to make it quick. But now? I'm going to watch you choke."
My vision began to blur at the edges. The room spun. I clawed at his fingers, but his grip was like iron. My thoughts turned to my baby, her kicks growing weaker as my oxygen depleted. I'm sorry, my sweet girl. I'm so sorry...
Suddenly, a heavy bottle of vintage Merlot shattered against the back of Julian's head.
The grip on my throat vanished instantly. Julian stumbled forward, dark red wine and blood mixing as they flowed down his neck. He turned slowly, his eyes wide with disbelief, before collapsing face-first onto the stone floor, unconscious.
Standing behind him, holding the broken neck of the wine bottle, was Sarah.
Her face was covered in dust, her uniform soaked in wine and blood, but she was standing.
"Are you... are you okay, Mrs. Sterling?" she gasped, dropping the broken bottle and rushing to my side as I fell to my knees, coughing violently, taking in desperate lungfuls of air.
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"Sarah," I choked out, grabbing her arm. "You're alive."
"I told you," she whispered, her voice shaking but filled with a fierce pride. "I know this house. Now, we have to go. The emergency gates... I found the manual override in the security deck before he broke it. We can escape."
