Chapter 5: The Breach
Chapter 5: The Breach
The doors didn't just open; they were violently shoved apart. The heavy thud echoed over the string quartet, causing a ripple of gasps through the glittering crowd.
A teenage boy, no older than eighteen, burst into the room. He was a stark contrast to the sea of tuxedos and gowns. He wore a damp, torn leather jacket, dirt-stained jeans, and a bruised cheek that looked dangerously fresh. His eyes, wild and frantic, scanned the massive room.
"Hey! Stop right there!" a security guard shouted, reaching for the boy's collar.
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The boy ducked, moving with a desperate, feral agility. He shoved past a waiter, sending a tray of champagne flutes crashing to the marble floor in a symphony of shattering glass. Guests shrieked and scrambled backward. Two more guards clad in earpieces and black suits lunged at him, but the boy vaulted over a velvet rope, sliding across a cocktail table to evade their grasp.
He wasn't running toward the exit. He was running toward the front. He was running directly toward Clara.
