Chapter 2 - The Inner Circle
The diner door banged open, and two more black town cars pulled up outside through the sheets of rain, their headlights cutting harsh, blinding beams through the grease-streaked windows. Heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel outside as additional security detail secured the perimeter. Inside, the atmosphere shifted from tense to lethal.
Vincent stood over Walter, who was shaking so violently his teeth chattered against each other.
"Who were you texting, Walter?" Vincent asked softly. He didn't yell. He didn't threaten. He just looked at the old man with a chilling, vacant stare.
"I—I don't know his name!" Walter whimpered, pressing his back against the side of the ice machine. "A man came by three days ago. He flashed a badge—no, not a police badge, a corporate ring. He said if a woman matching Claire's description ever acted suspicious, or if anyone came looking, I had to drop a line to a specific number. He gave me five grand in cash upfront!"
Claire gripped the edge of the counter, her stomach tightening with a sharp contraction that made her gasp. She doubled over slightly, clutching her side.
Vincent was by her side in a fraction of a second, his arm supporting her back before she could hit the floor. "Danny," Vincent snapped over his shoulder. "Get the car warmed up. We're moving."
"I'm not going with you," Claire hissed, trying to push him away despite the waves of exhaustion and pain rolling through her body. "If I go back to your estate, I’m walking straight into a crossfire. You think Walter was the only one watching? The person who bought him off is sitting inside your own organization, Vincent!"
Vincent paused, his hand steadying her waist. "I know."
That admission hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
"You knew?" Claire stared at him, bewildered.
"Since the third month after you disappeared," Vincent said grimly, lifting her effortlessly into his arms despite her protests. "My accounts were accessed from an internal terminal. Someone inside the syndicate has been leaking our shipping routes, skimming protection funds, and setting up hits. They wanted me distracted. They wanted me looking for you overseas so they could dismantle my operations from the inside out. But what they didn't count on was that whoever it was wanted you dead just as badly as they wanted my empire."
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He carried her out into the cold rain, shielding her with his overcoat while Frank cleared a path to the waiting armored sedan.
As the door slammed shut and the engine roared to life, Claire realized the terrifying truth: the secret she had been hiding—that she was carrying his child—was no longer her biggest protection. It was the ultimate target.
