Chapter 3 - THE DRAWING
We abandoned the high-rise and fled to Julian’s private downtown safe house. The locket didn't hold a portrait; nestled inside the clasp was a microdot containing the syndicate's offshore ledger. We finally had the answers to ruin them.
But as I connected the microdot to a secure tablet, Julian's burner phone buzzed. It was a silent perimeter alert.
"Only Marcus knew about this place," Julian said, checking the magazine of his sidearm.
"Marcus isn't the mastermind," I said, staring at the decoded ledger on the screen. A cold dread washed over me. "The primary beneficiary of the hostile takeover... is your stepmother, Eleanor."
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Julian froze. Before the betrayal could fully register, the front door was kicked off its hinges. We scrambled toward the fire escape. But Julian suddenly stopped, his eyes locked on the kitchen island. Sitting there was a crumpled piece of paper—a child’s drawing of a blue house with a crooked sun.
"Clara," Julian whispered, his voice cracking. "Whose drawing is this?"
