LET GO OF HIM. YOU’RE NOT HIS FAMILY.” THE BILLIONAIRE’S FIANCÉE ORDERED SECURITY TO DRAG HIS 58-YEAR-OLD NANNY AWAY FROM HIS NINE-YEAR-OLD SON

Flames licked the bottom of the steel door, glowing an angry, violent orange in the dark study.

The smoke alarm shrieked.

“Get down, Noah!” I yelled, pulling him away from the door and toward the heavy glass windows. “Stay low to the floor!”

The fax machine whirred agonizingly slowly.

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The heat in the room was rising rapidly. The heavy oak exterior of the reinforced door was catching fire, the wood crackling and popping.

I stripped off my apron and pressed it against the gap under the door to slow the smoke, but it was useless.

“Two minutes, Evelyn!” Sabrina’s voice mocked over the intercom, coughing slightly from her own smoke. “I can hear the fax machine. It doesn't matter who you're calling. By the time they arrive, you'll be ash.”

Noah was coughing, tears streaming down his face.

I looked at the reinforced window. Three stories down to the stone patio. We couldn't jump.

I grabbed the heavy bronze lamp from the desk and swung it at the window to let air in. The reinforced glass barely cracked.

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We were running out of time. The door was beginning to buckle inward from the intense heat.

Suddenly, a massive crash echoed from the hallway outside.

It didn't sound like the fire. It sounded like a door being kicked off its hinges.

Then came the shouts.

“NYPD! Drop your weapons! Get on the ground!”

Gunshots echoed in the hall. Two sharp cracks, followed by the sound of heavy bodies hitting the floor.

The intercom buzzed with static, and then I heard Sabrina scream in absolute panic. “No! Get off me! Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah, lady, you’re under arrest,” a gruff voice yelled back.

I crawled to the door, pressing my ear against the hot steel.

“Evelyn!” a voice roared through the smoke. It was Adrian. He was coughing violently. “Evelyn, back away from the door!”

I grabbed Noah and pulled him behind the heavy desk.

A fire extinguisher blasted outside, hissing violently as it smothered the flames. A second later, a heavy fire axe smashed into the weakened lock.

The door burst open in a cloud of white foam and gray smoke.

Adrian fell into the room, his tuxedo torn, his face bruised and covered in soot. But his eyes were wild with desperation.

He saw Noah and dropped to his knees, throwing his arms open.

“Dad!” Noah screamed, running across the room and colliding with his father’s chest.

Adrian buried his face in Noah’s hair, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, my boy. You’re safe.”

I slumped against the desk, my lungs burning, completely exhausted.

Two heavily armed NYPD SWAT officers stepped into the room, lowering their rifles. Behind them stood the Police Captain.

Adrian had managed to hit the silent panic button under the ballroom table before Vance had pinned him. The button bypassed the local precinct and went straight to the Commissioner, a perk of being a billionaire.

I picked up the printed documents from the fax machine and the silver watch.

I walked over to the Captain and handed them to him.

“This is proof of corporate fraud, blackmail, and the murder of Clara Cole by her half-sister, Sabrina Sterling,” I said, my voice raspy from the smoke.

The Captain took the evidence, his eyes wide.

Adrian stood up, carrying Noah in his arms. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a gratitude so deep it broke my heart.

“Evelyn,” Adrian whispered. “You saved him. You saved us both.”

He reached out and took my soot-stained hand, holding it tightly.

We walked out of the ruined study together.

In the hallway, Sabrina was in handcuffs, being dragged away by two officers. Her red gown was ruined, her face smeared with ash.

She glared at me, her eyes burning with pure hatred.

“You think this is over?” Sabrina spat, laughing bitterly. “You think you won?”

“Take her out of my house,” Adrian commanded coldly.

As they dragged Sabrina toward the stairs, she looked back over her shoulder.