Chapter 10 - Safehouse of Glass
The safehouse was a secluded concrete-and-glass modernist structure perched high on the cliffs of the northern coast, miles away from the chaos of the city. Rain lashed relentlessly against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the roaring black ocean.
Inside, Clara sat on an examination table beneath harsh fluorescent lights. A private physician allied with the Sterling Syndicate was gently cleaning the deep wounds across her back with antiseptic. Each touch sent sharp shocks of pain through her nervous system, but Clara did not flinch. She kept her hands clasped tightly around the leather journal she had stolen from Arthur Vanderbilt.
Christian Sterling walked in, carrying a cup of black coffee. He dismissed the physician with a slight nod. The doctor packed his supplies, murmured instructions regarding the antibiotics, and quietly exited the room.
"You have third-degree lacerations and two cracked ribs," Christian said, leaning against the glass wall. "Most people would be in shock."
"Most people had parents who loved them," Clara replied flatly, taking a slow, steady sip of the hot liquid. "I learned early how much pain a human body can carry before it stops functioning."
Christian set his cup down and looked at the leather journal on her lap. "Arthur's personal ledger. I spent ten years trying to pierce the shell companies of Blackwood Manor. You brought out the entire network in twenty minutes."
"I brought it out because it contains the names of everyone," Clara said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "The girls they brought in before me. The ones who didn't survive the cellar."
Christian’s expression darkened. Before he could speak, a large monitor on the wall hummed to life. A private secure frequency flickered onto the screen, showing the live press conference being broadcast from the front steps of the Vanderbilt estate.
Julian was standing before a forest of microphones, flanked by his mother Eleanor and the Vanderbilt PR team. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face hollow, reading from a typed script.
May you like
"My fiancee, Clara Higgins, has been abducted by corporate mercenaries," Julian read, his voice trembling under intense duress. "A bounty of ten million dollars has been placed on the retrieval of the fugitive Clara Higgins, dead or alive."
---
