Chapter 6 - The Man on the Terrace
Claire ran after Peter, dragging the heavy wedding gown across marble and then rough stone. Wind lifted the ribbons tied to the terrace chairs. Beyond the hedge, black cars lined the driveway.
"Peter! Wait!"
He stood near the railing, staring at his phone. "They have my son."
"Who does?"
"Adrian's people. They say they'll hurt him if I talk."
Claire reached toward the envelope. "Then give me the evidence and get inside."
A car engine roared beyond the hedge. Peter turned. Headlights flashed once, and a dark SUV shot through a service gate, knocking over a decorative urn.
Claire seized Peter's sleeve and pulled him down behind a stone planter as the vehicle lurched toward them. The SUV slammed into an outdoor table, glass bursting across the terrace. It reversed immediately and vanished through the gate.
"Was that supposed to scare us?" Claire gasped.
"No," Peter said. "That was supposed to kill me."
He pressed the envelope into her hand. Inside were photocopies of transfer records and a list of people labeled BENEFICIARIES. Claire found her own name.
"Why am I on this?"
Peter looked almost sick. "Adrian needed you to sign over control of the Bennett restoration fund. Your late father's charitable foundation still holds a controlling interest in the land beneath the Vale waterfront project."
"The foundation owns a small parcel, not the project."
"That parcel is the only legal route to the harbor. Without it, the billion-dollar development dies."
Claire heard approaching sirens, but Peter seized her arm.
"There's one more thing. Your father didn't die because his brakes failed."
May you like
He looked over her shoulder, horror crossing his face.
"Claire," he whispered, "run."
