Chapter 9 - Into the Cold Rain
Arthur fell with a harsh thud, the leather journal flying from his grasp and sliding across the polished floor toward the smoking crater. Clara scrambled across the tiles, her knees burning as she grabbed the leather-bound book with both hands.
"Get off me, you filthy little stray!" Arthur snarled, striking Clara across the jaw with his heavy signet ring.
Pain exploded behind Clara’s eyes, reopening the cut on her cheekbone. She tasted copper and salt, but she held the book against her chest with an unbreakable grip.
Christian fired a warning shot over Arthur's head into the ceiling plaster, forcing the old man to shield his face. Christian grabbed Clara by the collar of her gown, hauling her up. "Clara, run! The side terrace! Now!"
Sirens were deafening now. Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the grand arched windows, reflecting in macabre patterns across the shattered chandeliers and bloody floor. Julian stood immobilized by shock, watching Clara scramble away from him.
"Clara, wait!" Julian pleaded, stepping toward her with outstretched arms. "Please... I didn't know! I swear to God I didn't know!"
Clara paused for a single fraction of a second, standing at the broken French doors that led out onto the rainy terrace. Cold wind whipped her dark hair across her bleeding face. Her bare, scarred back was exposed to the violent elements.
"You knew enough to look away, Julian," Clara said, her voice freezing him in place. "And that makes you worse than him."
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She turned and sprinted through the shattered glass doors into the freezing torrential downpour. Christian and two of his operatives formed a protective shield around her as they bounded down the stone terraces into the darkness of the sprawling gardens, vanishing into the night just as tactical police breached the ballroom doors, weapons drawn, shouting commands that Julian couldn't even hear over the sound of his own breaking heart.
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