Chapter 8
Chapter 8 - The Storm of BetrayalThe drive to Portland was silent, the tension thick inside Liam’s truck. The winter storm had finally arrived, covering the highway in a treacherous layer of black ice and blinding flurries. Clara held her burner phone, watching the local news feeds. Julian had already begun his media campaign. Headlines branded her as a "deeply troubled artist" who had abandoned her loving husband. The comments sections were filled with strangers judging her, dissecting her life based on Julian’s lies."Don't look at it," Liam said softly, reaching over to touch her hand. "They don't know the truth. They will soon."
They arrived at the Portland satellite office of Vance & Associates at 11:30 PM. The building was a sleek glass tower, mostly dark at this hour. Liam parked across the street, keeping the engine running.
"I’m coming with you," he said.
"No, Liam. If security sees a local boatbuilder in the lobby, they’ll lock the place down. I still have my security badge from when I did their corporate branding. I can get into the secondary tech lounge on the third floor. It will take ten minutes."
Liam looked at her, his heart in his eyes. He hated letting her out of his sight, but he respected her strength. "Ten minutes, Clara. If you’re not back, I’m breaking the glass."
Clara pulled her cap low, stepped out into the freezing wind, and walked into the lobby. Her old badge swiped with a green flash. The elevator ride up to the third floor felt like an ascent into the gallows.
The tech lounge was dark and empty. Clara hurried to a terminal, plugged in her external hard drive, and accessed the secure portal. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. The administrative access worked. The download bar appeared: 0%... 10%... 30%...
Suddenly, the lights in the lounge flared to life.
Clara gasped, spinning around.
Standing in the doorway was Marcus, the investigator, flanked by two corporate security guards. He held a taser in his hand, his expression cold.
"Mr. Vance sends his regards," Marcus said, stepping into the room. "He knew you couldn't resist the ledger. Unplug the drive and come with us, Clara. Don't make this messy."
May you like
Clara looked at the monitor. The download was at 85%. She needed ninety seconds. She backed away toward the window, her hand reaching into her jacket pocket. "Stay back," she warned.
"Or what?" Marcus laughed, gesturing to the guards. "You’re cornered, lady."
