Chapter 2 - The Morning Panic.The sun rose over the sprawling Whitmore estate, but the gates remained locked shut.
Inside the master bedroom, Andrew woke up with a pounding headache.
He rolled over, expecting to find the digital clock glowing on the nightstand.
The screen was completely dead.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and yelled for the maid to bring his morning espresso.
No one answered.
Brenda shifted beneath the silk sheets, groaning softly.
"Why is it so freezing in here, Andrew?" she whined.
Andrew threw off the covers and stormed over to the thermostat.
The screen was blank, and the entire HVAC system had been shut down.
He grabbed his cell phone from the dresser.
He had twenty-four missed calls from his corporate executive board.
A cold sense of dread finally began to pool in his stomach.
He dialed his Chief Operating Officer, his fingers trembling slightly.
"What the hell is going on?" Andrew barked into the receiver.
"Sir, the bank just seized the corporate accounts," the COO stammered in absolute terror.
Andrew froze, the color draining from his arrogant face.
"That is impossible, we just secured a fifty-million-dollar credit line yesterday!" Andrew shouted.
"The lender revoked it at midnight, sir," the COO cried.
"They cited a breach of contract regarding the primary guarantor."
Andrew's mind raced, trying to understand how this was happening.
"Who is the guarantor?" Andrew demanded.
"A private equity firm called Escalante Holdings," the COO explained.
Andrew dropped the phone, his breathing turning shallow and ragged.
Escalante was Mariana's maiden name.
He had always thought it was a pathetic coincidence.
Brenda sat up in bed, clutching the sheets to her chest.
"Andrew, baby, what is wrong?" she asked, batting her eyelashes.
Before he could answer, the bedroom doors flew open.
Margaret stormed into the room, her hair a messy disaster.
"The staff is gone, Andrew!" she shrieked.
"Every single maid, chef, and driver packed their bags and left at dawn!" Margaret cried.
Andrew stared at his mother, his reality rapidly collapsing around him.
"Mom, Mariana didn't just leave," Andrew whispered in horror.
"She took all the money with her."
Margaret laughed, a shrill, hysterical sound.
"That worthless gold-digger doesn't have a dime to her name!" Margaret yelled.
A loud, rhythmic pounding echoed from the front gates of the mansion.
Andrew ran to the balcony and looked down at the driveway.
Ten black SUVs were parked outside, blocking the entire exit.
Men in tactical gear were chaining the gates shut.
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Andrew realized with sheer terror that he was no longer a king in a castle.
He was a prisoner in a cage.
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