Chapter 6 - The Necklace That Lied
The heavy gold necklace lay on the sterile floor, mocking me.
I stared at it, my heart pounding so hard it hurt my ribs.
“Adrian,” I whispered, stepping backward, holding my hands up. “I have never seen that necklace before in my life. Someone planted it on me.”
Adrian didn’t move. His gun was still trained on Dr. Mercer, but his eyes were locked on me. Cold. Calculating.
“When?” Adrian asked, his voice completely devoid of emotion.
“At the hospital,” I pleaded, my mind racing. “When I left my jacket on the chair. Vivienne was in the room. Daniel was in the room. Even Mercer!”
Dr. Mercer laughed under Adrian’s knee.
“She’s lying, Adrian,” Mercer gasped. “She’s been on Sarah’s payroll for a year. Why do you think a cardiac nurse noticed the wrong medication so quickly? Because she was supposed to be the hero. She was supposed to get inside your house.”
“Shut up!” I screamed at him, the injustice burning my throat.
I looked at Adrian.
“If I wanted to kill your father, I wouldn’t have shocked his heart back into rhythm three hours ago! I wouldn’t have risked my son’s life!”
Adrian stared at me.
The billionaire who had spent his life surrounded by liars was trying to find the truth in my eyes.
He slowly lowered his gun from Mercer’s head.
He reached down, picked up the gold necklace, and looked closely at the clasp.
Then, a bitter, dark smile crossed his face.
He looked at Mercer.
“You’re right, Mercer,” Adrian said softly. “It is a setup. But it’s a clumsy one.”
Adrian tossed the necklace onto the bed beside his sleeping father.
“My mother’s necklace was vintage Cartier,” Adrian said. “That is a cheap replica. The clasp is modern. Someone bought it recently to frame Claire.”
Mercer’s manic smile vanished.
“No,” Mercer stammered. “She gave it to me! Sarah gave it to me to plant!”
“Sarah is dead,” Adrian roared, pressing his knee harder into Mercer’s chest. “Who is giving you the orders?!”
“I don’t know her real name!” Mercer cried. “She has red hair! She calls herself the Architect!”
Before Adrian could ask another question, a sharp, loud crack echoed from the shattered window.
Mercer’s body jerked violently.
A sniper bullet had found its mark in the dark.
Mercer’s eyes rolled back, and he went limp on the floor.
Adrian tackled me, dragging me down behind the heavy medical bed just as two more bullets tore through the drywall where I had been standing.
“Stay down!” Adrian yelled, covering my body with his own.
The heavy door to the suite burst open, and Marcus rushed in, dragging a massive ballistic shield.
“Shooter is in the tree line!” Marcus shouted. “Bravo team is flanking!”
Adrian pulled me to my feet, shielding me behind Marcus as we moved out of the room and back into the windowless interior hallway.
I was shaking uncontrollably. A man had just died at my feet.
Adrian grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at him.
“Claire. Look at me.”
I met his eyes. They were fierce, protective, and completely anchored.
“I trust you,” Adrian said, leaving no room for doubt. “They are trying to divide us because together, we are ruining their plan. Do you understand?”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes.”
“Good.” Adrian turned to Marcus. “Move Thomas to the underground bunker. Now. And secure her family.”
“Yes, sir.”
Adrian grabbed the silver key we had found in the coat pocket.
“Where are we going?” I asked, following him down the hall.
“To the city,” Adrian said, grabbing a set of car keys from a silver tray. “Before the Architect empties safety deposit box 412.”
We took a different car this time—a nondescript gray sedan.
Adrian drove like a ghost, avoiding major highways, slipping back into Manhattan just as the sun began to rise over the skyline.
The bank was a private, highly secure facility in the financial district. Adrian bypassed the front desk entirely, using his family’s executive access to reach the subterranean vault.
The vault manager, a pale, nervous man, let us into the private viewing room and handed Adrian a heavy metal box before quickly exiting.
Adrian placed the box on the mahogany table.
He inserted the silver key.
It turned with a heavy click.
He opened the lid.
Inside, there were no blackmail files. No wire transfers.
There was only one item.
A pair of antique silver baby rattles, tied together with a faded pink ribbon.
I frowned, looking at them. “What is that?”
Adrian’s hands shook as he reached in and pulled them out.
“They were a gift,” Adrian whispered, his voice cracking. “From my mother. To Vivienne’s mother.”
“I don’t understand.”
Adrian looked at me, a profound, sickening horror in his eyes.
“Evelyn Cross didn’t kill my mother for money, Claire,” Adrian said. “She killed her for revenge.”
He turned the silver rattles over.
Engraved on the bottom of one was the name Vivienne.
Engraved on the bottom of the other was the name Sarah.
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“They’re twins,” Adrian breathed, the entire foundation of his life collapsing. “Vivienne and Sarah are twins. Thomas Vale isn’t just Vivienne’s target. He’s her father.”
TITLE: The Family Heirloom Of Lies
