Chapter 3 - The weight of gold
The revelation hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Bennett stared at Clara, really looking at her for the first time. Beneath the quiet, beautiful exterior of the maid was a woman carrying a two-decade-old ghost. He locked the doors to the office, his imposing frame blocking the only exit.
"Explain," Bennett demanded, his voice dangerously low.
Eleanor sighed, her frail hands resting on the armrests of her wheelchair. "Clara is a Reed. Her father was Thomas Reed. Does that name mean anything to you?"
Bennett’s jaw tightened. The intense tonal contrast of the room deepened as a cloud passed over the sun outside, plunging his face into velvety shadow. Thomas Reed was his father’s former accountant—a man who supposedly ran off with millions of the syndicate's money and was never seen again.
"My father didn't steal the money," Clara said, her voice shaking but defiant. She finally looked up, her fair skin flushed with long-held grief. "He discovered that someone inside the family was embezzling. He came to your father with the proof. The next day, he vanished. My mother died of a broken heart, and my brother and I were left with nothing. I came here to find the ledgers my father hid before he disappeared."
Bennett crossed his arms, the tattoos on his forearms flexing. "And the bank slip I found in your pocket?"
"Hush money," Eleanor confessed, shocking them both. "From someone inside our own organization. They’ve been paying Clara's brother to stay away. But now, they're demanding the ledgers in return for his life."
Bennett felt a rare surge of cold panic. Someone in his inner circle was a traitor, and they were threatening the woman who had brought his dying mother comfort. He looked at Clara, his commanding presence shifting from a threat to a shield.
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"You're not a maid anymore," Bennett said, walking around the desk to stand inches from her. "You are under my protection. No one touches you."
Clara looked up at his ruggedly handsome face, feeling a strange flutter in her chest despite the danger. But later that night, as Clara sat in her small quarters, her burner phone buzzed. It was a text message, glowing brightly in the dark room. It read: Bennett is lying to you. He has the ledgers. And he knows exactly where your brother is.
