The St. Yves Mansion… Foyer.
Bastian stormed down the stairs. He wasn't wearing a jacket. His white dress shirt was rolled up to the elbows, revealing forearms tense with rage. He held a heavy iron tire iron in his right hand.
"Ken!" Bastian roared.
Ken ran into the foyer, looking terrified. "Sir? Why do you have a weapon?"
"I'm going to see my mother," Bastian said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Lock the gates behind me. No one leaves. No one enters. If a delivery driver so much as looks at the front door, release the dogs."
"But Sir, Ms. Eve—"
"Keep her inside," Bastian ordered. "She is going to try to run. Do not let her. Use physical force if you have to, but do not let Anaïs or my son step one foot off this property. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
Bastian walked out the door. He didn't take the limousine. He got into his black sports car, threw the tire iron onto the passenger seat, and gunned the engine.
