PROLOGUE
534 Words
Ten years ago...
The mansion burned like a funeral pyre beneath the midnight sky.
Flames swallowed centuries of wealth and power, climbing marble pillars and devouring priceless paintings as thick black smoke curled into the darkness. The air reeked of burning wood, blood, and gunpowder.
Gunshots echoed through the estate.
One after another.
Then silence.
Beneath the cold wooden floorborads of a hidden compartment, eight-year-old Iris clamped both hands over her mouth to smother every sound threatening to escape. Beside her, her little sister Amara trembled uncontrollably, her tiny fingers digging into Iris's arm.
"Don't make a sound", their mother had whispered moments earlier before sealing them inside the narrow space.
Iris obeyed.
She had no choice.
Through the thin cracks between the floorboards, she watched boots march across the bloodstained marble floor.
Then she saw her father.
His once-pristine white shirt was soaked crimson, yet he stood as tall as a king refusing to kneel. A pistol rested steadily in his hand despite the blood dripping from his arm.
Three men we're forced onto their knees before him.
Traitors.
Men who had sworn loyalty to their family.
"You sold us," her father said quitely.
No anger.
No hesitation.
Only disappoinment.
Three shots rang out.
Each bullet found its mark.
Three bodies collapsed onto the floor.
Iris squeezed her eyes out, but it was too late.
She had already seen everything.
A deafening gunshot exploded through the room.
Her father's body jerked violently before he staggered backeard. A dark stain spread across his chest as the pistol slipped from his fingers and clattered against the marble.
He fell.
For the first time in her life...
Her farther looked mortal.
Footsteps rushed closer.
Her mother stepped between the hidden compartment and the armed men, shielding it with her own body as if sheer determination could stop bullets.
"Please..." she begged, tears glistening in her eyes. "Leave my daughters alone. They're innocent."
A laugh answered her.
Cold.
Cruel.
Merciless.
Another shot echoed.
Iris watched her mother collapse onto the floor only a few feet away, crimson slowly pooling beneath her motionless body.
The world became unbearably quiet.
Someone approached the hidden compartment.
Iris held Amara tighter, praying they hadn't been discovered.
The floorboard shifted.
Light spilled inside.
A rough hand reached in.
Amara screamed.
"No!" Iris lunged forward, clutching her sister with every ounce of strength she had.
The man ripped Amara away anyway.
Tiny fingers slipped through Iris's grasp.
"Iris!" Amara cried, her voice breaking.
Then she was gone.
Iris crawled toward the opening, but another voice stopped everyone.
Calm.
Commanding.
Absolute.
"Take the younger one."
A long pause followed.
Then the order that would haunt Iris for the rest of her life.
"Leave the older one alive."
The floorboard slammed shut.
Footsteps faded into the distance.
Iris lay frozen beneath the floor, sorrounded by smoke, blood, and silence.
She waited.
Minutes.
Hours.
She never knew.
When she finally crawled out, dawn had begun to break.
The mansion was nothing more than a smoldering ruin.
Her parents were dead.
Her sister had vanished.
And whoever orchestrated the m******e had delibarately spared her.
Not out of mercy.
But for a reason she had yet to understand.
- Writer
