Twenty-Eight - Tension

Allison Samira was having her usual shopping routine. Together with her chaperone, she transferred from one store to another. People greeted her as she strode inside. She was treated with much importance given her social position. In a matter of minutes, she handed her newly acquired possessions to her chaperone.

Across the street where her bodyguard and driver waited. The two gentlemen assisted the chaperone in loading Allison's splurges to the back of the car. Winston, the driver, opened the door for Allison. She didn't notice that her staff was not inside the car yet. Time passed and her chaperone was still not riding with her, she looked around to see no one is outside the Range Rover. She lowered the car window.

"Amala, Winston, Jessie? Where are you?" She curiously inquired and scanned around.

Allison's chaperone, Amala, had a very uncomfortable facade. She was standing a distance from the car. Horror creeps towards Allison. Tension breaks, it was too late for her.

Amala was put to the test. She swallowed the lump in her throat after the Range Rover exploded. The explosion was meters from them and they didn't show any signs of bewilderment. People scattered on the street. The ablaze vehicle became the center of attention. The public reacted variously; confusion, fear, and curiosity.

Authorities and medical respondents arrived. The firefighters put out the fire in minutes, displaying the luxurious waste in the car and its aristocratic owner. Onlookers gasped in horror as the recognition of the victim was declared. Even the authorities refused to believe such an identity. They checked more than once. Marchioness Allison Samira of Downcaster died in a tragic accident.

***

Downcaster

The news flew to the countryside. Sullen Grounds were seeded with devastating news. Mr. Mercer ran through the grand staircase after he received the message. Downcaster fell into despair, the lady of the house is no longer with them. They all held their breath as the last person to know was about to be informed.

Mr. Mercer and Renard's private secretary, Anthony, exchanged anxious glances. Mr. Mercer signaled him to open the door. Renard was busy with paperwork. Shaking hands, sweat dripping on his forehead, and courage slipping, Mr. Mercer stepped closer.

"My lord," The old man was glad to find his voice. "Lady Allison had a car accident."

Renard instantly dropped the paper he was reviewing. He removed his reading glasses. His expression remained the same but his breathing hastened.

"She didn't make it, sir. I'm sorry." Mr. Mercer silently added.

Renard looked away, "I don't like your humor today, Mr. Mercer."

"I do hope I'm joking, my lord," Mr. Mercer felt pity for his master.

Denial was all over Renard. He stood and took his coat, then left. The two gentlemen followed. The house discerns desolation as the lord of Downcaster descended to the main entrance asking for his car. House staff bowed in sympathy. The family's coat of arms was put into half mass. Black curtains were retrieved from the stockade. Another sad day for Downcaster.

The car ride was horrendously quieter than usual. Anthony and the driver did not know what to do or what to say. Renard was awfully quiet. He had minimum reactions, but he managed to request that his children be informed immediately, especially his oldest son, Devonne, who was very close to his stepmother.

"We're here now, sir," Anthony announced, receiving a slight nod from Renard.

The hospital staff guided them to the morgue. Renard almost lost a grip on the side railings hearing it. Anthony was quick to assist. He tapped Renard's shoulder.

"We're here for you, sir." He whispered and nudged him carefully to continue walking.

There was staff looking at them in pity. Though financially and socially separated, in death, everyone is equal. Anthony supported Renard's failing composure as they reached the morgue.

"I can't," Renard whispered in muffled sobs.

"I'll walk you inside, sir," Anthony encouraged.

They draw closer to the roasted body. It was covered in white cloth. The right arm was loosely hanging beside the metal bed. Unrecognizable. Renard could not hold his tears when he saw the ring. Anthony held him as he fell on his knees. Renard hugged Allison's lifeless body and cried his heart out.

***

France

"Why is the chopper here?" Iñigo asked their butler.

"A visitor, monsieur."

Iñigo flinched when he saw the coat of arms of Samira painted on the chopper. He dismissed the butler and walked down the hall, making some rounds to know why a Samira matter does not directly involve him. Francesca's private secretary ran across the patriarch.

"My lord," He greeted.

"What is going on, Pierce?" Iñigo asked firmly.

"Terrible news, sir," Pierce swallowed hard. "Lady Allison is dead, sir. Her car exploded in London."

"Quoi?" Iñigo was taken aback by what he heard. "Renard's wife?"

"Yes, sir. Lady Francesca and Lord Devonne will immediately travel back to Downcaster."

"Yes, of course," Iñigo stopped his tracks and looked back to Pierce. "Tell our men to secure my granddaughter's travel."

Iñigo warily walked back to his chamber when he came across Francis. They both stared at each other for split seconds and sighed. Iñigo clicked his tongue then shook his head.

"It's true, then. I feel simply awful for Renard. Losing a wife to another tragic incident." Francis muttered.

"Premeditated incident, I might say," Iñigo answered.

"This can't be another council attack. The Drax is ruined."

"The Drax is not the only enemy they have," Iñigo stated.

"I know that but this is beyond madness."

"You don't know madness until you are entirely blinded by revenge."

***

"DEVASTATING NEWS FROM LONDON! LADY ALLISON SAMIRA, THE WIFE OF LORD RENARD SAMIRA, FIFTH MARQUIS OF DOWNCASTER, HAS DIED. HER CAR EXPLODED IN ABBEY ROAD THIS MORNING. AUTHORITIES HAVE YET TO RELEASE INITIAL FINDINGS OF THE CAUSE OF THE EXPLOSION."

Hector fetched his phone. He called Nathan to ask if he was behind this. This is a serious problem in his case. Samira will surely pin this incident on him making it harder for him to clear his name. On the third try, Nathan finally answered.

"Yes! I'm watching the news now. This is getting very exciting."

"You know this is dangerous for me! The blame will be on my family yet again." Hector worriedly said.

"Oh, relax! How can you even pull that exhibit? You're totally under guard with minimal contact to the outside world!"

"And what about my untamed nephew? If this is another impulsive behavior of his, I'm going to kill him."

"It's not his doing either! He almost didn't make it last night, by the way," Nathan giggled. "Assassins from the menagerie attacked them. Fortunately, they survived."

"What? Whose assassins?"

"That, I can't talk about. I just want to say that your conscience is clear but sorry for your loss. I know you have a soft spot for her. Good luck defending yourself, though. The council will be more aggressive this time knowing they have a caged animal to lash out whenever an inside job happens." Nathan laughed then hang up the call.

Five men barged in the room, startling Hector. They all stared at him coldly, Mr. Adrik stepped closer. Hector maintained his position and eye level.

"The timetable was moved, sir. We're instructed to transport you to France immediately."