Chapter 3 - Below the Ballroom
Adrian wanted the conversation moved upstairs.
Eleanor refused.
“Not yet.”
She asked Grace to push her wheelchair toward a private service elevator behind the catering corridor.
Adrian followed.
Grace hesitated.
“My supervisor will think I abandoned my station.”
Adrian pressed the elevator button.
“I own the hotel.”
“That doesn’t make my supervisor less terrifying.”
For the first time, Eleanor smiled.
“She gets that from Thomas.”
Grace looked at her.
“My father?”
“Humor in the worst possible moment.”
The elevator doors opened.
Adrian entered.
Grace pushed Eleanor inside.
Instead of pressing the penthouse level, Eleanor pressed B4.
Grace noticed Adrian’s expression.
“There is no B4.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“There is.”
The elevator descended.
B1.
B2.
B3.
Then the numbers vanished.
A metallic vibration passed through the floor.
Finally the doors opened into darkness.
Adrian turned on his phone flashlight.
A narrow brick tunnel stretched beneath the palace.
Old pipes ran across the ceiling.
Dust covered the floor.
Grace stared.
“What is this?”
“The original foundation corridor.”
Eleanor pointed ahead.
“The palace was built over another building.”
They moved slowly.
Adrian seemed increasingly irritated.
“You knew about this?”
“Your grandfather did.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“I had reasons.”
They reached a rusted steel door.
A faded number was painted across it.
217.
Grace stopped.
That number meant something.
She opened her wallet.
Inside was a small brass key she had carried for eighteen years.
Her father’s key.
The only thing recovered from his pocket after the accident.
217 was engraved into the metal.
Grace pulled it out.
Eleanor inhaled sharply.
“He gave it to you.”
“My mother said it was from his toolbox.”
“It wasn’t.”
Grace approached the door.
The key slid perfectly into the lock.
She turned it.
A click echoed through the tunnel.
Adrian opened the door.
Inside stood a narrow room filled with metal shelves.
Most were empty.
One wooden box remained in the center.
Grace walked toward it.
Her name was written across the lid.
GRACE MILLER.
Her knees nearly gave way.
“My father put this here?”
Eleanor nodded.
Grace lifted the lid.
Inside were dozens of financial documents.
Photographs.
Cassette tapes.
And a sealed envelope.
She opened it.
The handwriting belonged to Thomas Miller.
Grace recognized it immediately.
My dearest Grace.
If you are reading this, then I failed to come home.
Her vision blurred.
Adrian stood silently beside her.
Grace continued reading.
You will hear people say my death was an accident.
It was not.
Grace stopped.
The room seemed to tilt.
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Adrian stared at his mother.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
Grace forced herself to continue.
What I found inside Blackwood Holdings could destroy powerful people.
Trust nobody simply because they carry the Blackwood name.
Grace slowly raised her eyes.
Adrian had gone still.
The final line was shorter.
Especially the man Eleanor believes she can trust most.
Grace turned toward Eleanor.
“Who was he talking about?”
Before Eleanor could answer, something slammed against the steel door behind them.
Adrian spun around.
May you like
The lights in the tunnel went out.
Then footsteps began running toward them.
