Chapter 3 - THE INVITATION IN BLOODThe front door didn't pick; it didn't rattle. A single, muffled thump echoed through the reception area as the deadbolt sheared cleanly out of the rotting wooden frame.
Marcus stepped through the threshold first, his service pistol drawn, low and ready. Behind him walked Adrien Cole, his overcoat collar turned up against the rain, his eyes fixed entirely on the office door at the end of the hall.
Claire stepped out of the back office before they could reach it. She wasn't shaking. The Remington was tucked casually under her right arm, the barrel pointed safely toward the linoleum floor, but her stance was an unyielding wall.
"You left your dog’s favorite chew toy behind," Claire said, her voice cutting through the damp chill of the room like a scalpel. She tossed a heavy rubber Kong toy onto the front desk. It bounced twice and rolled to a stop against Marcus’s boot.
Adrien stopped ten feet away. He looked at the shotgun, then up at her face. A slow, humorless smile touched the corner of his mouth.
"You keep an interesting inventory for an animal shelter, Ms. Bennett," Adrien said, stepping closer despite Marcus’s sharp intake of breath. "Most girls with paw prints on their hoodies call the police when someone kicks their door in."
"The police take twenty minutes to cross the bridge from the precinct," Claire replied, her gaze locking onto his glacial blue eyes. "By then, whoever kicked my door in is either gone or bleeding out. I prefer to handle my own security."
"Clearly." Adrien stopped just out of arm’s reach. The scent of expensive cologne, rain, and gunsmoke washed over her. "I didn't come back for the dog. Titan is currently locked in the climate-controlled security wing of my estate with three private handlers and a customized steak dinner."
"Then why are you standing in my hallway at two in the morning?"
Adrien reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a heavy, black-embossed card stamped with a silver raven, and placed it gently on the desk next to the rubber toy.
"Because my security audit of Second Chance Haven just finished. Your operating deficit for this quarter is four hundred and eighty thousand dollars. Your mortgage is held by a shell company that belongs to Viktor Moretti—my primary business rival in the east district. And tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, his foreclosure papers are hitting your desk."
Claire’s breath hitched—just for a microsecond—before her face locked back into iron composure.
"What does Moretti want with an animal shelter?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave.
"He doesn't want the shelter," Adrien said softly, stepping in close enough that she could see the tiny silver threads woven into the lapel of his suit. "He wants the land. And more importantly, he wants to hurt me by taking something that my security team flagged as a vulnerability."
"A vulnerability?" Claire scoffed quietly. "Because I didn't bow to you?"
"No," Adrien said, his gaze burning into hers with an intensity that made the air feel thin. "Because when my dog walked into this room tonight, he didn't run to the man who feeds him, protects him, and owns half this city. He chose you. In my world, when something belongs to me, it stays with me. But right now... I have a dog refusing to eat, and a woman who refuses to blink."
May you like
He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr.
"Pack a bag. You and your shelter are moving. Tonight."
