Chapter 3 - The Lake House
The safehouse wasn't a cabin; it was a fortress of glass and steel hidden deep in the woods bordering Lake Michigan.
When Clara and Mila were ushered into the massive living room, Silas was already there, sitting by a roaring fireplace. He had traded his tuxedo jacket for a dark sweater, a laptop resting on his knees.
"I apologize for the dramatics," Silas said smoothly, closing the laptop. "But my associates lack a certain degree of etiquette."
Mila wriggled out of her mother's grip and pointed at him. "You didn't bring the cake!"
Silas actually smiled—a rare, genuine expression. "I’m afraid we had to leave in a hurry, Mila. But I promise to replace it."
Clara stepped forward, her hands trembling. "Mr. Thorne... I just serve drinks. I have a mountain of debt and a kid to raise. I can't be involved in mafia wars."
"You aren't involved, Clara," Silas said, his tone softening, offering a strange comfort. "You are my guests until I clean house. It will take three days. You will be safe here, fed, and compensated heavily for your lost wages."
"How are you going to fight a war from that chair?" she asked, the words slipping out before she could filter them.
Declan tensed in the corner, but Silas just chuckled darkly.
May you like
"Wars are rarely won with fists, Clara. They are won with ledgers." Silas opened his laptop again. "My nephew Leo thinks power is about guns. He forgot who holds the passwords to the offshore accounts that pay for those guns."
Silas pressed a single key. "I just drained thirty million dollars from Leo's Cayman accounts. By tomorrow morning, his mercenaries will realize their paychecks bounced. Let's see how loyal they are to a broke king."
