Chapter 6 - Darkness and Deception
The sudden plunge into absolute darkness swallowed the St. Jude banquet hall instantly, turning the glittering celebration into a suffocating black void. A collective wave of panic rippled through the seated guests, muffled gasps and scraping chairs echoing in the pitch-black space as people scrambled to stand up.
Julian stood frozen near the front, his eyes straining to adjust to the gloom. The massive projector screen was the only source of light left, casting a harsh, ghostly blue glow across the stage, silhouetting Clara’s motionless figure a few feet away.
Elena was sobbing uncontrollably on the floor, her muffled cries sounding frantic and desperate against the marble tiles.
Clara? Julian called out, his voice sharp and laced with rising tension. Turn the lights back on! What kind of stunt is this?
There was no answer from Clara. Only the soft, rhythmic sound of footsteps approaching across the polished floor, coming from a direction Julian could not quite place. The footsteps were slow, deliberate, and entirely unhurried.
Maya’s small voice suddenly piped up from the darkness, sounding entirely calm amidst the chaos.
Mom says the fuses are outside, Maya announced clearly.
Shut up, Julian snapped, spinning around blindly in the direction of the voice, his hand lashing out and catching only empty air.
Suddenly, a bright beam of light cut through the darkness. It wasn't the overhead chandeliers, but the flashlight app on a mobile phone, held firmly in Clara’s hand. The harsh white beam illuminated her face from below, casting deep shadows beneath her cheekbones and giving her an eerie, unrelenting expression.
You can’t hide from the truth in the dark, Julian, Clara said quietly, stepping closer until the beam of light washed over his terrified face. You built your entire empire on stolen bones. Did you really think you’d get to wear a tuxedo and cut a cake in peace?
Julian raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the flashlight, his chest heaving as anger finally eclipsed his fear. He lunged forward, his hands grabbing the lapels of Clara’s trench coat with desperate force, shoving her back against the head table.
Where is he, Clara? Julian roared, losing all semblance of his usual polished composure. Where is Arthur hiding? If this is some extortion plot, name your price and get out of my sight!
Clara didn't flinch. She looked down at Julian’s hands gripping her coat, a cold, mocking smile touching her lips. She didn't try to push him away; instead, she raised her own phone, tapping the screen twice.
Instantly, the audio system crackled back to life, bypassing the broken projector. A new recording began to play, but this time, it wasn't Arthur’s voice.
It was Julian’s own voice, recorded crystal-clear, detailing instructions on how to transfer funds to an offshore account the very night Arthur disappeared.
Julian froze, his hands slowly slipping off Clara’s coat as the incriminating words echoed through the dark, silent banquet hall, damning him in front of every prominent guest in the city.
May you like
Before Julian could process the betrayal, the emergency exit doors at the side of the hall burst open, flooding the room with blinding red emergency light and revealing a figure standing in the doorway.
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