Chapter 4 - The Rat in the Silk Suit

“YOU LYING BASTARD!” Vanessa screamed, flying across the room like a feral cat. She launched herself at Adrian, her long acrylic nails tearing into his face, leaving deep, bloody gashes across his cheeks.

“Get off me, you crazy bitch!” Adrian roared, shoving her back violently. Vanessa crashed into the heavy glass coffee table, shattering it and spilling onto the floor in a heap of blood, tears, and ruined silk.

The once-glorious living room of the Stonebridge estate was now a war zone. Broken glass, torn legal documents, blood, and shattered marble lay scattered across the rug.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The front doors of the mansion rattled violently under the force of heavy blows.

“FEDERAL AGENTS! OPEN THE DOOR!” a voice thundered through an amplified loudspeaker outside. “ADRIAN STONE, STEP AWAY FROM THE VICTIM AND PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!”

Adrian’s breath hitched. Panic overtook whatever logic he had left. He whirled around, his eyes locking onto the heavy iron fire poker resting by the mantelpiece. He snatched it up, his face twisted into a demonic, hopeless snarl.

He grabbed me by my hair, dragging me upward and pressing the blunt, heavy iron tip against my throat.

“TELL THEM TO LEAVE!” Adrian screamed in my ear, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. “TELL THEM IT WAS A PRANK! IF I’M GOING DOWN, CLARA, I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL TAKE YOU WITH ME!”

The pain in my hair was sharp, but I didn’t blink. I looked past the iron bar, straight into the security lens hidden behind the 12 o’clock mark on the mantel clock.

“Do it,” I whispered softly.

Adrian gasped. “What?”

“Strike me again, Adrian,” I said, my voice echoing with absolute control. “Do it right in front of the lens. Show the world who you really are one last time. Give the jury five seconds of undeniable murder attempt.”

Adrian looked at the clock. Then he looked at the shattered TV. He realized, with a wave of sickening clarity, that even if he killed me right now, the entire world was watching in real-time. There was no escape. No high-priced legal team, no offshore bribes, no PR firm could sanitize what was happening in this room.

His grip loosened. The heavy iron fire poker clattered out of his trembling hand and slammed onto the floor.

CRASH!

The heavy oak front doors split open under a battering ram. Tactical officers in heavy body armor, guns raised, poured into the foyer like a flood of black steel.

“DON’T MOVE! ON THE GROUND! BOTH OF YOU, ON THE GROUND!”

Red laser sights danced across Adrian’s chest. He dropped to his knees, throwing his hands above his head, weeping uncontrollably like a broken child.

“It was her father!” Adrian sobbed into the carpet as officers tackled him, pulling his arms behind his back and snapping cold steel handcuffs onto his wrists. “He set me up! It’s a conspiracy! She’s crazy!”

Two paramedics rushed over to me with medical kits, instantly cutting the silk tie off my wrists and wrapping a heated sterile blanket over my shoulders.

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As they lifted me onto a stretcher, I looked down at Adrian, who was being dragged past me by three federal agents.

“The game isn’t over, Adrian,” I whispered as I passed him. “Tomorrow morning, the stock market opens. And you don’t even own the shirt on your back.”