Chapter 9 - The glass house
The estate’s greenhouse was a massive glass structure filled with rare, blooming orchids and thick, humid air. The warm yellow glow of the overhead lamps reflected off the condensation on the glass panes. Adrian stood at the far end of the narrow stone walkway, surrounded by lush green foliage. His fitted black suit blended into the shadows, his face illuminated only by a single hanging bulb.
The heavy glass door creaked open. Marcus stepped inside, his gray suit looking crisp, his face set in a carefully constructed mask of loyalty. He walked down the stone path, his polished shoes clicking softly in the humid silence.
"Adrian," Marcus greeted, stopping a few feet away. "The guards said you wanted to see me. Everything alright at the restaurant?"
Adrian slowly turned around. His micro-expressions were terrifyingly blank. He didn't look angry; he looked hollow, like a man observing a ghost.
"James loved orchids," Adrian said softly, his deep voice carrying through the humid air. "He used to come in here when we were kids to hide from our father. He always hated the violence of this life."
Marcus swallowed hard, his eyes darting toward the exit for a fraction of a second. "He was a good man, boss. We all miss him."
Adrian took a slow step forward. "He gave Claire a pocket watch before he died. A heavy silver piece. Did you know he had a hidden compartment put into the back of it?"
Marcus’s natural breathing stopped completely. The mask of loyalty shattered, replaced by the instinctual panic of a cornered animal.
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"I opened it tonight," Adrian continued, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper. "He kept a tiny, folded ledger inside. Bank routing numbers, Marcus. Your bank routing numbers. Tied to the explosive purchases made three days before the harbor meeting."
Marcus reached inside his jacket, but Adrian was already moving.
