Chapter 12
The heavy steel door of the service entrance slammed shut with a deafening metallic clang, echoing violently down the narrow, rain-slicked alleyway. Vivienne stumbled forward, her high heels slipping on a patch of wet garbage, and collapsed onto the cold, filthy asphalt. The crimson silk of her designer gown soaked up the dirty puddle beneath her, instantly turning the luxurious fabric dark and foul-smelling.
A few feet away, Marcus groaned, rolling onto his side. The massive bodyguard was battered and bleeding profusely from his nose, his tactical suit torn and stained.
"Ms. Cross..." Marcus wheezed, struggling to push himself up onto his knees. "Are you... are you hurt?"
Vivienne didn't answer. She sat in the puddle, staring blankly at the brick wall opposite the alley. The cold rain began to fall harder, washing away the last traces of her immaculate makeup. An hour ago, she was the undisputed queen of the city's elite, sipping vintage champagne under crystal chandeliers. Now, she was shivering in a rat-infested alley, stripped of her diamonds, her empire, and her identity.
"This isn't real," Vivienne whispered, her voice trembling uncontrollably. She hugged her knees to her chest. "This is a nightmare. I’m going to wake up in my penthouse. Arthur will bring me coffee."
"Ms. Cross, we need to move," Marcus urged, finally standing up and swaying unsteadily on his feet. He wiped blood from his mouth. "Stallone’s men might come back to finish the job. We are completely exposed out here."
"Move where?" Vivienne shrieked, a sudden burst of hysterical panic ripping through her. She looked up at Marcus, her eyes wide and wild. "I have nothing! No phone, no wallet, no home! My bank accounts are frozen, my properties are gone. He took everything, Marcus! Everything!"
"We need a safe house," Marcus grunted, grabbing her arm to pull her up from the wet asphalt. "Someone you trust. Someone not connected to the Cross estate."
Vivienne laughed, a harsh, jagged sound that bordered on madness. "I don't have friends, Marcus. I have sycophants and political allies. And Stallone already owns all of them. The Governor hung up on me."
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"Then we walk," Marcus said firmly, ignoring her hysteria. He pulled her upright, forcing her to stand on her aching feet. "There is a 24-hour diner six blocks from here. I know the owner. He owes me a favor. We can get out of the rain and figure out our next move."
Vivienne looked down at her ruined crimson gown, then up at the dark, unforgiving city skyline. The glittering lights of her former kingdom mocked her from above. She took a trembling step forward, her reality entirely shattered, following the bleeding bodyguard into the cold, unforgiving night.
