THE BILLIONAIRE’S BURIED WIFE AND THE WAITRESS WHO KNEW TOO MUCH

Richard hissed in pain as the red-hot flare seared his palm, but he threw it backward into the wet mud, away from the gasoline. It fizzled and died in the rain.

Caroline fell to her knees, clutching her shattered wrist, howling in agony.

Elizabeth didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the heavy flashlight Caroline had dropped and swung it as hard as she could, striking her sister-in-law across the temple. Caroline collapsed into the mud, unconscious.

“The lock!” Elizabeth screamed, turning back to the cellar doors. “We have to get the lock open!”

Richard tried to grip the gun, but his right hand was severely burned from catching the flare. He dropped the weapon, gritting his teeth in pain.

“Let me,” I said.

I knelt in the mud, pulling a heavy hairpin from my wet hair. I had spent three years living in a juvenile group home where locking your belongings meant nothing if you didn't know how to pick a Master Lock.

My hands were shaking from the adrenaline and the freezing rain.

“Hurry, Claire,” Richard begged, leaning heavily against the cellar doors. “Please.”

“I got it, I got it,” I muttered, shoving the pin into the cylinder. I pressed my ear against the freezing iron.

Click. Click.

The heavy padlock popped open.

Richard ripped the lock off and threw the heavy wooden doors open.

The stench of mold, stale air, and old terror rushed out of the dark hole.

“Leo!” Elizabeth cried, scrambling down the rotting wooden stairs into the pitch-black cellar.

Richard followed her, ignoring the burns on his hand.

I stood at the top of the stairs, keeping an eye on Caroline’s unconscious body.

A moment later, I heard the sound of sobbing. A mother holding her child.

Richard emerged from the darkness first, pulling a terrified, soaking wet teenager up the stairs. Leo was pale, covered in dirt, his wrists bound with heavy zip-ties. He looked at me, his eyes wide with shock.

“Claire?” Leo choked out. “What... what are you doing here?”

“Busboys don’t get to quit without a two-week notice,” I managed to smile, though tears were streaming down my face.

Elizabeth came up behind him, wrapping her coat around her son’s shivering shoulders. She looked at the ruined foundation of the house, and then down at the cellar that had been her tomb for two years.

“It’s over,” she whispered. “It’s finally over.”

Sirens wailed in the distance. The police cars Richard had called from the restaurant were finally arriving. Flashing red and blue lights cut through the trees, illuminating the nightmare we had just survived.

Uniformed officers swarmed the property. Paramedics rushed over to treat Richard’s burned hand and check Leo’s vitals. Two officers dragged Caroline out of the mud, handcuffing her shattered wrist and throwing her into the back of a squad car.

I stood off to the side, watching the Sterling family.

For the first time in twenty years, Richard, Elizabeth, and their son were standing together. They were bruised, battered, and covered in mud, but they were holding onto each other with a desperate, unbreakable grip.

A detective approached me. “Are you Claire Bennett?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Sterling says you’re the one who figured this all out. We’re going to need a full statement.”

I nodded, feeling the exhaustion finally hit my bones. “I’ll tell you everything.”

As I walked toward the ambulance to get a blanket, Richard stopped me. He placed his uninjured hand on my shoulder.

“Claire,” the billionaire said, his voice thick with emotion. “You didn't just save my son tonight. You gave me my life back. I owe you a debt I can never repay.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Mr. Sterling,” I said quietly. “I just hate bullies.”

He smiled softly. “I think you’re going to need a new job. Because tomorrow morning, I’m buying Bellissimo. And the first thing I’m going to do is fire the management.”

I laughed, wiping the rain from my face.

But as I looked past Richard, toward the squad car where Caroline was sitting, I noticed something chilling.

Caroline wasn’t looking at Richard. She wasn’t looking at Elizabeth.

She was staring directly at me, and she was smiling.