CHAPTER 1: LOCK EVERY EXIT

The ballroom had been built to make people feel small.
Crystal chandeliers hung over the marble floor. Tall white columns rose into shadows. Gold trim glowed along the walls, and every black-tie guest held a champagne glass as if wealth itself could break if gripped too hard.
Then Isabelle stepped into the center aisle with blood on her lower lip.
Not much.
Just enough.
Her burgundy velvet dress was smooth, her diamond earrings still bright, but one side of her face carried the dull mark of a hand. She stood very straight, phone pressed to her ear, breathing slowly through the pain.
Across from her, Ethan adjusted his black tuxedo and smiled like he could still control the room.
The guests stopped moving.
Isabelle did not look at them.
She looked only at Ethan.
Then she spoke into the phone.
"Dad... lock every exit."
No one laughed.
No one asked what she meant.
Even the waiters froze near the banquet tables, silver trays hovering in their hands.
Ethan's smile twitched once.
It was the first honest thing his face had done all night.