Chapter 4 - The Trojan BrideClaire pressed her back against the cold stone of the fireplace, her breath catching in her throat. "Help you? Adrian, please—after what I did, after lying to you—I'll do anything, just don't..."
"Stop panicking," Adrian interrupted coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "If I wanted you dead, you would have joined your brother’s syndicate problems an hour ago. You are still breathing because your stupidity happens to be the exact key we need to unlock Vance's hiding place."
Victor crossed his arms, leaning against the bookshelf. "She's compromised, Boss. Vance knows she failed her mission tonight. The moment that little girl exposed them under the table, Vance realized the element of surprise was gone. He's going to change locations by morning."
"He won't," Adrian said with absolute certainty.
Victor raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"
"Because Julian Vance is an arrogant bastard," Adrian said, walking back to his desk and picking up the blank square of paper with the single black dot that had been left under Vance's dessert plate. "Look at this. A black dot. In mafia semaphore from the old docks, it doesn't mean a warning. It means checkmate is in progress. He thinks he has us cornered because of Claire's brother. He expects us to panic, to chase ghosts, to make a mistake."
Adrian turned the paper over in his fingers. "He wants a meeting. He wants to negotiate the terms of my surrender—or my execution."
Claire gasped, clutching her chest. "A meeting? Where?"
"At the lighthouse in Sag Harbor," Adrian said smoothly. "The same place little Emma described seeing him near. Vance loves symbolism. Twenty years ago, he burned my father's west wing while watching from the cliffs near that old lighthouse. He wants to finish the circle in the exact same spot."
Victor’s eyes lit up with predatory anticipation. "Shall I assemble the strike team? We can surround the lighthouse by dawn before he even wakes up."
"No," Adrian replied sharply. "If we go in with guns blazing, Judge Daniel Thorne's federal contacts will label it a rogue gangland massacre, and the state police will tear apart every legitimate business we own within forty-eight hours. We don't just want Vance dead, Victor. We want his protection stripped away. We want him exposed legally, publicly, and permanently before the earth swallows him."
Adrian looked back at Claire, who was watching him with a mixture of awe and absolute dread.
"You are going to call him," Adrian instructed, tossing her mobile phone onto the mahogany desk in front of her.
Claire stared at the phone as if it were a venomous snake. "Call him? What do I say?"
"You tell him that the engagement party went off without a hitch, that Adrian suspects nothing, and that you managed to steal the combination to the wall safe while I was downstairs," Adrian commanded, his eyes locking onto hers with hypnotic intensity. "You tell him you must meet him at the Sag Harbor lighthouse at sunrise tonight to hand over the contents of the ledger, or your brother dies."
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Claire’s hands began to shake so violently she could barely lift the device. "And if he realizes it's a trap?"
"He won't," Adrian said softly, walking over and placing a heavy, chilling hand on her shoulder. "Because arrogance always blinds a man to the obvious truth: The trap was set for him the moment he walked into my ballroom."
