(The Vane’s Mansion)The violent, lashing storm of the night had finally wept itself dry, leaving behind a sharp, cold autumn morning. As the morning sun rose over the manicured hedges of the Vane estate, its weak, golden light caught the lingering puddles on the driveway, turning the gravel paths into shimmering, fractured mirrors. But inside the mansion, there was no warmth to be found. The air was frozen, heavy with the quiet, electrical charge of a bomb waiting for its fuse to spark.Charlie woke up with a violent jerk, his chest heaving, his body drenched in a cold, anxious sweat. He had barely slept, his mind haunted by nightmares of red stock charts, margin calls, and his mother’s icy, final threats on the phone. He reached out to rub his face, his hand shaking so badly he could barely control his fingers.Suddenly, the high-priority chime of the estate's security gate console broke the silence of the bedroom, ringing out with a sharp, demanding tone.Charlie scrambled out of b
Read more