Chapter 5 - The delicate cage
Clara gasped, dropping the key. She spun around to face Bennett, trapped between the vault wall and his towering, muscular frame. The dim lighting of the cellar created an intense, cinematic intimacy. His fair, rugged face was inches from hers, his breath warm against her rosy skin.
"Why didn't you trust me?" Bennett asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards.
"Someone texted me," Clara confessed, her voice trembling. "They said you had the ledgers. They said you knew where my brother was."
Bennett’s eyes narrowed. He looked past her to the ledgers on the pedestal. "I didn't know these existed until ten seconds ago. My father kept secrets from everyone, even me. And whoever texted you is trying to use you to tear my empire apart from the inside."
He released her wrist, gently trailing his fingers down her arm in a surprisingly tender motion. "Open them, Clara. Let's see what cost your father his life."
Clara opened the first leather book. The pages were filled with meticulous, handwritten accounting. She scanned the numbers, her eyes widening as she realized what she was looking at. "It wasn't your father stealing," she whispered in shock. "It was Marcus."
Marcus was Bennett’s underboss. The man who had trained Bennett, the man who was currently in charge of the estate's security. The man who had just conveniently let the power grid go down.
"He's been bleeding the syndicate dry for twenty years," Bennett said, his calm facade finally cracking with a dangerous fury.
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Suddenly, the heavy iron door of the wine cellar slammed shut, the locking mechanism clicking loudly from the outside. The emergency lights in the cellar cut out, plunging them into total darkness.
"Well, well," Marcus's voice echoed through a hidden intercom speaker in the ceiling. "It seems the maid is smarter than she looks. Too bad neither of you are getting out of there alive."
