Chapter 5 - THE FIANCÉ'S BETRAYAL
The tires of the sedan screamed against the wet pavement as the driver whipped the car around, ignoring red lights and oncoming traffic. My heart pounded furiously against my ribs, the terrifying reality of Madison’s text echoing in my mind.
Connor just let someone into my apartment.
Connor. The handsome, charming, impeccably dressed investment banker Madison had been dating for two years. He had proposed three months ago in Paris. I had helped her pick out the floral arrangements for the engagement party. The betrayal was so deep, so intimate, it made me sick to my stomach.
“How did Julian get to Connor?” I asked, gripping the leather armrest as the car swerved around a stalled delivery truck. “Connor is a legitimate banker. His family is spotless.”
Adrian’s jaw was locked, his eyes fixed on the blurring city lights outside the windshield. “Nobody is spotless, Evelyn. Connor’s firm handles overseas investments. Three years ago, they lost fifty million dollars belonging to a very dangerous European cartel. I bailed him out to protect Madison. I thought I bought his loyalty. I was wrong. Julian must have offered him a way out from under my thumb.”
He pulled his phone from his overcoat and dialed a number. “Send every available man to the Gold Coast penthouse. Lock down the building. No one gets in or out without my authorization.”
He hung up, his grip on the phone white-knuckled. The vulnerability I had seen in him just minutes ago was entirely gone, replaced by a cold, calculated ruthlessness. He was a king going to war for his daughter.
We arrived at the luxurious high-rise in less than ten minutes. The lobby was eerily quiet, the night concierge conspicuously absent. Adrian didn't wait for the driver. He drew his weapon, pushing me slightly behind him as we moved toward the private elevators.
He swiped a master keycard. The elevator doors slid open, and we stepped inside. As the car shot upward to the penthouse, Adrian looked at me.
“When the doors open, you stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice low and uncompromising. “Do not try to negotiate with Julian. Do not try to reason with Connor. Do you understand?”
I nodded, my mouth too dry to speak.
The elevator chimed. The doors parted.
The penthouse was massive, an expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering Chicago skyline, white marble floors, and modern art. But it had been violently disrupted. A glass coffee table was shattered. A heavy vase lay in pieces near the doorway.
Standing in the center of the living room was Connor. He was sweating, his designer suit rumpled, holding a small silver handgun that trembled in his grip.
And sitting on the white leather sofa, looking terrifyingly calm, was Julian.
He was pressing a piece of gauze to the gash on his forehead, his tuxedo ruined by the crash, but his posture was that of a man holding all the cards.
Madison wasn't in the room.
“Where is she?” Adrian roared, his gun aimed squarely at Julian’s chest.
Connor jumped, pointing his trembling weapon at Adrian. “Drop it, Adrian! Drop the gun, or I swear to God I’ll shoot!”
Adrian didn't even look at the younger man. His eyes remained locked on his twin. “I asked you a question, Julian. Where is my daughter?”
“She’s in the master bedroom,” Julian replied smoothly, tossing the bloody gauze onto the marble floor. “Resting comfortably, though slightly sedated. Connor panicked when she recognized me. A shame, really. She has her mother’s temper.”
“You touch one hair on her head, and I will dismantle you piece by piece,” Adrian warned, his voice vibrating with lethal intent.
“You aren't in a position to dismantle anyone, brother,” Julian sneered, standing up slowly. He reached into his ruined jacket and pulled out the heavy, tarnished silver key to the family vault. He tossed it onto the floor between them. It landed with a heavy clink.
“I have the key,” Julian said. “But you changed the acoustic locks on the vault door. The key alone is useless without the voice pass-phrase. You are going to take me to the estate, you are going to open that vault, and you are going to hand over the ledger and the poison vials. Then, I take back the empire.”
“And if I refuse?” Adrian challenged.
Julian smiled, a chilling expression that lacked any humanity. He looked at Connor. “Show them.”
Connor swallowed hard. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small, glittering object. He threw it across the room. It landed at my feet.
I looked down.
My breath caught in my throat.
It was a delicate, vintage gold locket. A locket I recognized instantly. It belonged to my younger sister, Sarah. She never took it off. Inside was a picture of our late parents.
“Sarah,” I gasped, falling to my knees to pick up the locket. The gold was cold. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing. Yet,” Julian said, his eyes finally shifting to me. “Elena isn't the only ghost I brought back to Chicago, Evelyn. I have men waiting at your sister’s apartment. If Adrian doesn't open the vault by midnight, they have orders to burn the building down. With her inside.”
A reversal of horror hit me. This wasn't just about Madison anymore. Julian had weaponized my family to force Adrian’s hand, knowing Adrian cared for me.
“You’re a coward,” Adrian hissed, taking a step forward.
“I’m a pragmatist,” Julian corrected. He checked the silver watch on his wrist. “It is currently 11:15 PM. The old estate is a thirty-minute drive. I suggest we leave.”
Adrian looked at me. The devastation in his eyes was profound. He was the most powerful man in Chicago, but in this room, he was trapped. He could lose his empire, his daughter, or the woman he loved.
“I’ll do it,” Adrian said, his voice deadened. He lowered his gun. “Let Evelyn check on Madison. Then we go.”
“How noble,” Julian mocked. “Connor, watch the girl. If she tries to call the police, shoot Madison.”
Julian and Adrian walked toward the private elevator. The tension between the twin brothers was a palpable, suffocating force. As the elevator doors closed, taking the two titans away, I was left alone in the ruined penthouse with a terrified, armed traitor.
I stood up slowly, clutching my sister’s locket so tightly the metal bit into my palm.
Connor kept the gun pointed at me, his hand shaking violently. “Don't move, Evelyn. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just need my debts paid.”
I looked at the shattered glass on the floor, then at the heavy marble fireplace poker resting against the hearth a few feet away.
I didn't have Adrian’s power or his men. But I had my sister’s life on the line. And I realized something else.
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Connor wasn't a killer. He was just a coward.
“You already have, Connor,” I whispered, taking a deliberate step toward him. “You already have.”
