Chapter 6 - The Architect of Shadows
Marcus didn't ask questions Clara wasn't ready to answer. He fed her hot broth, gave her antibiotics from a veterinary supply cache, and let her sleep in the small backroom behind the dyno bay.
For three days, Clara spent every waking minute studying a map of the city pinned to Marcus’s wall.
"You can't walk into Vance Tower," Marcus warned, setting down a mug of black tea. "Security uses facial recognition. His private penthouse requires keycard access, biometric scans, and twenty-four-hour armed guard rotation. Even if you made it past the lobby, they'd shoot you on the stairs and call it self-defense."
"I don't need to break in," Clara replied, her voice eerily calm. Her eyes were fixed on the society pages of the morning paper Marcus had brought.
On the third page was a glamorous photograph of Victoria Sterling attending a charity gala preview. Draped around Victoria’s neck was a diamond choker worth more than Marcus’s entire city block.
"Victoria is throwing an engagement gala at the Grand Horizon Hotel," Clara said, tapping the newsprint with her finger. "Arthur’s security team will be split between guarding the venue, his private car, and the penthouse nursery."
"You think they kept the baby in the penthouse?" Marcus asked.
"Arthur’s pride wouldn't allow him to hide his heir in an obscure facility," Clara said, memories of Arthur’s obsessive vanity surfacing. "He wants the baby where he can survey his achievement. Victoria will use my son as the ultimate accessory to cement their union."
"Even so, you're one broken woman with half-healed stitches. What’s the play?"
Clara looked up. The timid girl who had pleaded on the hospital floor was gone. In her place was an engine fueled entirely by motherly fury.
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"We find the blind spot in Victoria’s perfection," Clara said. "She has a private stylist, a makeup entourage, and a supplier for her 'special supplements.' Marcus... how good are you with signal jammers?"
Marcus looked at her for a long second, then a grim, dangerous grin cracked his weathered face. "Let me show you my basement."
