Chapter 11 - THE SANCTUARY
The journey took all night.
We walked through woods and across fields, staying far from roads and lights. Adrian carried the ledger tucked securely inside his coat. He did not speak much. When he did, it was only to tell me to step quietly, to stay close, to save my strength.
By dawn, we stood on a ridge overlooking the Sanctuary.
It was not a house. It was a fortress. High stone walls surrounded a sprawling estate hidden deep in a valley. Guards patrolled the battlements. Floodlights swept the grounds. In the center stood a massive stone mansion with barred windows and iron gates that looked impossible to open.
I stared down at it. “That is where he lives?”
“That is where he hides,” Adrian said quietly. “Where no one can touch him.”
He sat beside me behind a thick stand of trees and pulled the ledger from his coat. He opened it to the page Vanessa had marked.
“Elizabeth wrote about this place. She wrote that Julian keeps records of everyone he has ever threatened or bribed. Hidden somewhere inside that house is proof of every crime he has committed.” Adrian looked at me. “If we can get inside… we can end this. Today.”
“And Elizabeth?”
“If she is alive… she is being held somewhere deep within. Somewhere no one will ever find her.” He closed the ledger. “We will not go through the gates. There is an old drainage tunnel that runs beneath the west wall. Elizabeth marked it on a map inside the ledger. She wrote that it is the only way in that Julian does not know about.”
We found the tunnel an hour later. Half-buried in mud and overgrown with brush, it smelled of damp earth and rot. Adrian went first, pulling me carefully behind him. The passage was low and narrow. Water pooled around our ankles. We moved slowly, in total darkness, guided only by the faint glow of a flashlight Adrian held covered inside his coat.
When we emerged on the other side, we were inside the walls.
We crouched beneath thick shrubbery at the edge of the gardens. The mansion loomed ahead, silent and imposing.
“Stay down,” Adrian whispered. “Move only when the lights turn away.”
We crossed the lawn slowly, hiding behind hedges and statues. Once, two guards walked past so close I could hear their boots crushing the gravel. Adrian pressed me flat against the ground, his hand over my mouth, until they were gone.
We reached the mansion’s rear terrace. Adrian tried the first window—it was locked. The second. The third. On the fourth attempt, the latch gave way. He lifted the sash carefully, and we slipped inside.
We found ourselves in a library lined from floor to ceiling with books. Adrian closed the window and drew the curtains. He turned on the flashlight, its beam reduced to a thin, cautious stream.
“Now we look,” he said. “For the records room. Or a basement. Or anywhere someone might be kept prisoner.”
We moved through the house in silence. Every door we opened revealed something new—luxurious rooms filled with expensive furniture, yet cold and unlived-in. Portraits lined the hallways. And in every single one, painted in the same severe style, was the same man.
Julian Mercer.
He looked like Elizabeth. Like Victoria. Like me. Same eyes. Same jaw. But his mouth was cruel, his eyes hard and cold. Seeing his face made my skin crawl.
Halfway down the main hallway, Adrian stopped. He pointed to a heavy iron door at the far end. It had no handle on the outside. Only a keypad.
“He is keeping her there,” he said. “I know it.”
He walked forward slowly, keeping close to the wall. I followed. As we drew near the door, I heard it—a faint, rhythmic tapping from the other side.
*Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.*
Adrian exchanged a look with me. He leaned close to the door and whispered so softly I could barely hear him.
“Elizabeth?”
The tapping stopped. Then a voice came—hoarse, weak, but unmistakable.
“Adrian… is that you?”
Adrian’s shoulders slumped in relief. “We are here. And we have the ledger.”
Elizabeth exhaled, a ragged sound. “Thank God. But you must go. Now. Julian set a trap. He knew you would come.”
“Tell us the code,” Adrian said urgently. “We are getting you out.”
“Six-one-four-two. Victoria’s birthday. But Adrian—do not open the door until I tell you. He is waiting on the other side. He wants the ledger. And he wants the girl.”
Adrian stepped back from the keypad. He looked at me, his expression grave.
“He is waiting,” he whispered. “He expects us to walk in.”
“Then we don’t walk in,” I said quietly.
May you like
Adrian looked at me.
“We give him what he wants,” I said. “But not the way he expects.”
