Chapter 7 - The Enforcer
"Looking for something, Clara?"
The voice came from the shadows, cold and metallic. Clara froze. The main lights of the study flicked on, blinding her for a second.
Standing by the door was Marcus Graves, Arthur Vance’s head of security and personal fixer. He was a massive man, wearing a perfectly tailored suit that barely hid the brutal muscle beneath. In his right hand, he held Clara’s lock picks, which she had accidentally dropped near the door.
"Mr. Graves," Clara said, forcing her heart rate to slow, adopting her mask of pure professionalism. "I heard a noise. I thought there might be an intruder."
Graves chuckled, a sound like grinding stones. "You’re a terrible liar. I ran a background check on you when you were hired. Clara Evans. Impeccable references. A degree in early childhood education." He stepped closer, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "But that’s not your real name, is it, Miss Lawson?"
May you like
Clara’s blood ran cold. He knew she was a journalist.
"Arthur is hosting a gala downstairs tomorrow night," Graves said softly. "You will smile, you will keep the boy quiet, and you will pack your bags. If you try to run, or if you breathe a word of what you think you know, you will end up exactly where his mother did."
