The Invitation

The FBI holding facility was clean, modern, and terrifyingly silent. Elena sat at a metal table, her hands cuffed to the bar, watching the clock tick. 5:00 PM. The Gala started in two hours.

Rossi came in, holding a tablet. She looked tired.

"We got the DNA results," Rossi said, sitting down. "From the swab we took at the hospital."

"And?"

"It's a match," Rossi said. "Thomas Miller is the biological father of Julian St. Clair. And Sebastian St. Clair."

Elena closed her eyes, relief washing over her. "So you believe me."

"I believe the science," Rossi said. "But the science doesn't explain the arson. It doesn't explain the kidnapping. And it doesn't explain why Arthur Pendelton is currently giving a statement to the DA claiming you've been blackmailing the family for months."

"He's lying."

"He's convincing," Rossi said. "And he has documentation. Emails. Bank transfers. All originating from your login."

"Hacked," Elena said. "By Victoria."

"We can't prove that," Rossi said. "Not yet. And until we can, you're staying here."

"I can't stay here," Elena said, leaning forward. "You saw the guest list. The Director is going to be there. Arthur is going to make a move."

"A move?"

"He's going to legitimize the takeover," Elena said. "He's going to announce the restructuring. He's going to put himself in charge of the trust. And once he does that... once he has the Director's blessing... he's untouchable."

Rossi looked at the tablet. She swiped through a few screens.

"There's something else," she said. "We found a file on Arthur's laptop. Encrypted. But our tech cracked it."

"What is it?"

"It's a flight plan," Rossi said. "For a helicopter. Departing the estate tonight at 10:00 PM."

"Destination?"

"Unfiled," Rossi said. "But the passenger manifest lists three people. Arthur Pendelton. Leo St. Clair. Sophie St. Clair."

Elena felt the blood drain from her face. "He's taking them."

"Victoria is already gone," Rossi said. "She landed in Zurich an hour ago. But she didn't take the kids. She left them."

"She left them with Arthur?"

"It looks that way," Rossi said. "Maybe as insurance. Maybe as a trade."

"He's going to disappear with them," Elena whispered. "He's going to use them to control the money from offshore. And if I try to stop him..."

"He'll kill them," Rossi finished.

She stood up. She paced the small room.

"I can't let you go, Elena. I'd lose my badge. I'd go to prison."

"You're going to lose those kids if you don't," Elena said.

Rossi stopped. She looked at the door. Then she looked at the camera in the corner of the room.

"The system is going down for maintenance in five minutes," she said, her voice low. "Cameras will be offline for sixty seconds."

"Sixty seconds," Elena said.

"The guard change happens at 5:15," Rossi continued. "The rear exit is usually unmanned for a smoke break."

She reached into her pocket. She pulled out a key. A handcuff key.

She slid it across the table.

"If you escape," Rossi said, "I will hunt you down. I will bring the entire force of the federal government down on your head."

"I know," Elena said, covering the key with her hand.

"But if you get to that Gala," Rossi said, "and you find proof that the Director can't ignore... then maybe we can both keep our jobs."

She turned and walked to the door.

"Five minutes," she said. "Don't make me regret this."

The door clicked shut.

Elena watched the clock. 5:10.

She unlocked the cuffs. She rubbed her wrists.

5:11.

The camera light blinked off.

She moved.

She slipped out the door, down the corridor, toward the rear exit. The hall was empty.

She pushed the bar. The door opened into the alley.

Fresh air. Freedom.

But as she stepped out, a courier van pulled up. A man in a uniform jumped out, holding a thick envelope.

"Delivery for Mrs. Elena St. Clair," he said, reading the label. "Is she here?"

Elena froze. "I'm her lawyer," she lied. "I'll take it."

She signed the pad. She took the envelope.

It was heavy. Cream-colored cardstock. Embossed with the St. Clair crest.

She opened it.

Inside was an invitation. Gold leaf. Elegant script.

*The St. Clair Charity Gala.*
*Admit One.*

And clipped to the card was a note. In Victoria's handwriting.

*Come and say goodbye.*

RSVP: Regrets Only. Elena circled 'Accepts.'