Chapter 5 - THE LEDGER IN THE WALL
The blood pounding in Clara’s ears drowned out the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the office.
"My mother?" Clara repeated, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. "My mother was a public school teacher. She died of cancer. She didn't steal anything."
Answer one: Vincent wasn't just targeting Clara because Lorenzo wanted to marry her. Clara’s family had a hidden connection to the syndicate that she knew nothing about.
Julian leaned against the heavy oak desk, clutching his bleeding face. "Your mother was Vincent’s accountant, Clara. Twenty years ago. She kept the books for his offshore shell companies."
Clara shook her head, backing away. "No. That’s a lie."
"It’s not," Lorenzo said softly. He stepped forward, signaling Marcus to back off.
Lorenzo looked at Clara, his dark eyes filled with a complicated mix of guilt and resolve.
"When I chose you at the lounge tonight," Lorenzo admitted, "it wasn't a coincidence, Clara. I knew who you were. I knew your mother was Eleanor Vance. And I knew she disappeared from Vincent’s payroll with a ledger that proves he has been skimming from the syndicate council for decades."
The air left Clara’s lungs.
"You used me," Clara whispered, feeling incredibly stupid. "You didn't want a fake wife to secure your inheritance. You wanted me so you could find the ledger and destroy your uncle."
Open two: If Clara’s mother stole the ledger twenty years ago, where is it now? And did Lorenzo's men really intercept the photo of Maya, or did they orchestrate it to force Clara into his home?
"I wanted both," Lorenzo said unapologetically. "The inheritance requires a wife. Destroying Vincent requires the ledger. You were the perfect solution."
"And Maya?" Clara asked, her voice shaking with rage. "Did Vincent really send men to our apartment tonight? Or was that you, creating a threat so I’d come willingly?"
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened. "I do not manipulate women by threatening children. Vincent’s men kicked your door in. I simply arrived first."
He took a step closer to her.
"Your mother hid that ledger before she died. If Vincent finds it, he burns the evidence and takes control of the family. If I find it, I hand it to the council, and Vincent is finished."
Clara stared at the man she had just agreed to marry. He was ruthless, calculating, and entirely honest about his manipulation.
"I don't know where it is," Clara said coldly. "She died when I was fifteen. She left us nothing but medical debt."
Julian coughed from the floor. "Vincent thinks you have it. He searched your apartment. He didn't find it. But he found something else."
Julian reached into his blood-stained pocket with trembling fingers. He pulled out a small, child’s drawing. It was folded and crumpled.
Clara recognized it instantly. It was a drawing Maya had made last week. A picture of their old apartment, with a big red X drawn over the fireplace.
"Maya drew this," Clara breathed, snatching the paper.
"Vincent’s men found it on your fridge," Julian wheezed. "Vincent thinks it’s a map. He thinks the ledger is hidden behind the bricks of your fireplace."
"There is no fireplace in our apartment," Clara said, staring at the drawing. "We have a radiator."
Lorenzo frowned, looking over her shoulder at the drawing.
"If it’s not your apartment," Lorenzo said, "what house did Maya draw?"
Clara stared at the red brick building in the crayon drawing. The prominent chimney. The large oak tree in the front yard.
Her heart skipped a beat.
"It’s not a house," Clara said. "It’s a bakery. Mrs. Gable’s bakery in Brooklyn. Maya goes there every Tuesday for reading hour."
"And Mrs. Gable?" Lorenzo asked.
"She was my mother’s best friend," Clara whispered.
Lorenzo immediately turned to Marcus. "Get the cars. We go to Brooklyn right now."
"No!" Julian yelled from the floor, panic seizing him. "Vincent already left for the bakery! He took a team. If you go there, he’ll kill Mrs. Gable!"
Clara didn't wait. She turned and sprinted out of the office, her bare feet hitting the marble floor silently.
"Clara, stop!" Lorenzo shouted, running after her.
He caught her by the arm in the foyer, spinning her around.
"You cannot go out there," Lorenzo said, his grip firm but careful. "It is a warzone."
"That woman practically raised me after my mother died!" Clara yelled, fighting against his hold. "If Vincent hurts her because of a ledger she knows nothing about, I will never forgive myself! Let me go!"
Lorenzo stared down at her fierce, tear-streaked face.
"I am not letting you go," Lorenzo said, his voice dropping into a deadly calm. "I am taking you."
He turned to his security chief. "Marcus. Heavily arm the detail. We are going to buy a bakery."
Ten minutes later, a fleet of armored black SUVs roared out of the estate gates.
Clara sat in the passenger seat next to Lorenzo. He had handed her a heavy Kevlar vest, forcing her to wear it over her clothes.
"If firing starts," Lorenzo instructed, his eyes glued to the dark road, "you drop to the floorboards. You do not look up. You do not play hero."
"I’m not a hero," Clara said, her hands gripping the door handle. "I’m just trying to keep my family alive."
They tore through the quiet Brooklyn streets, arriving at the small, red-brick bakery just before 2:00 AM.
The lights inside were on.
And parked directly in front of the storefront were three black sedans.
May you like
The front glass window of the bakery was completely shattered.
TITLE: THE ASHES IN THE OVEN
