Chapter 3 - The Gold Watch
Claire backed up against her narrow bed, clutching the leather notebook to her chest.
Marcus tilted his head, his eyes cold and dead. The loyal protector act he played upstairs had vanished completely.
“Julian was supposed to be a professional,” Marcus sighed, pulling a silencer from his jacket pocket and screwing it onto the barrel of his handgun. “He was supposed to poison the boss, grab that notebook, and burn this place to the ground. But you just couldn't stay in your lane, could you, Claire?”
“You killed his mother,” Claire breathed, staring at the heavy gold watch on his wrist. “Isabella. Evelyn saw you do it fourteen years ago.”
“Evelyn was a cowardly old cook who knew when to keep her mouth shut,” Marcus sneered, taking a step closer. “She ran away into the slums, changed her name, and hid. I spent fourteen years looking for her to tie up loose ends. I didn't know she had passed her secrets onto a broke little waitress.”
“Why?” Claire demanded, her mind racing for a way out. “Adrian trusts you with his life!”
“Adrian’s father built this empire with me!” Marcus snapped. “When the old man died, it should have been mine. But Isabella wanted to take the boy and run. She wanted to turn state’s evidence and destroy everything we built. I couldn't let her do that.”
He raised the gun, aiming right between Claire’s eyes.
“Hand over the notebook, sweetheart. And I’ll make this quick.”
“Answer one, open two,” Claire muttered to herself. It was a cooking rule Evelyn had taught her about balancing flavors, but right now, it applied to survival.
Give him what he wants, but open a new problem for him.
Claire slowly extended her hand with the notebook.
As Marcus reached for it, she didn't let go.
Instead, she twisted her wrist, popping open the hidden compartment of the wooden box on the bed behind her.
Inside was a glass jar of pure, concentrated ghost pepper oil.
Claire grabbed it and smashed it directly into Marcus’s face.
The giant man screamed, dropping the gun as the burning oil seared his eyes. He clawed at his face, blindly thrashing against the walls.
Claire didn't hesitate. She grabbed the notebook, kicked his gun under the bed, and bolted out the door.
She ran up the stairs, her lungs burning, bursting into the main hallway just as Adrian was coming down.
“Claire!” Adrian caught her by the shoulders. “Where’s Marcus?”
“He’s the traitor!” Claire sobbed, shoving the death certificate into Adrian’s hands. “He killed your mother! Evelyn saw him! He just tried to shoot me in my room!”
Adrian looked down at the paper. He read Evelyn’s handwritten note.
He wears her husband’s gold watch.
Adrian’s face didn't turn to anger. It turned to absolute, terrifying stone.
For fourteen years, Marcus had been his surrogate father. He had worn that gold watch every single day, claiming it was a gift from Adrian’s late father to honor his loyalty.
Heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs.
Marcus emerged, his face red and blistered, a backup weapon in his hand. He wiped his tearing eyes, leveling the gun at Adrian.
“It’s over, kid,” Marcus growled. “The guards outside belong to me. Julian poisoned the loyal ones an hour ago. You’re entirely alone.”
Adrian stepped in front of Claire, shielding her with his body.
“You killed my mother,” Adrian said, his voice dangerously quiet.
“She was weak,” Marcus spat. “Just like you. Obsessing over a waitress because she cooks like your mommy.”
“You’re right about one thing,” Adrian said softly.
Adrian reached into his jacket. But he didn't pull out a gun.
He pulled out a small, metallic detonator.
“I am paranoid,” Adrian whispered.
He pressed the button.
A massive explosion rocked the west wing of the mansion, blowing the security barracks out into the courtyard. The shockwave threw Marcus to the floor.
“Run!” Adrian yelled, grabbing Claire’s hand.
They sprinted down the private elevator shaft, taking the emergency maintenance stairs two at a time. The mansion above them descended into chaos as alarms blared.
They burst out through the wine cellar into the rainy New Orleans night, diving into an unmarked black sedan hidden in the garage.
Adrian slammed on the gas, tearing through the iron gates.
Claire sat in the passenger seat, gasping for air, gripping the leather notebook.
“Where are we going?” Adrian asked, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror.
“I don't know,” Claire cried. “I don't have anywhere to go!”
“What about Evelyn’s old place? Did she leave you a house?”
Claire froze. A cold spike of terror hit her heart.
“No,” Claire whispered. “But she left me something else. Something Marcus doesn't know about.”
May you like
Adrian looked at her. “What?”
“A little boy,” Claire said, tears finally falling. “My adopted son, Leo. Evelyn’s grandson. And he’s at home right now, completely unprotected.”
