Chapter 3 — The Clock That Never Forgot
Adrian lunged toward the antique mantel clock.
For the first time since I'd known him, panic replaced arrogance.
He ripped it from the fireplace and smashed it against the marble.
Brass gears exploded across the room.
The glass shattered.
The wooden case split in half.
He stared at the broken pieces, breathing heavily.
"There."
"It's gone."
I smiled for the first time that night.
"You really think my father would keep the only copy inside the clock?"
Adrian froze.
Before he could answer, every television in the living room suddenly turned on.
The same video appeared on every screen.
The hidden recording.
Crystal clear.
There was Adrian raising the whip.
Vanessa laughing.
The necklace around her neck.
His voice.
"Tomorrow morning, you sign the mansion... the shares... everything."
"Vanessa and I are starting fresh."
Every word echoed through the room.
Adrian grabbed the remote.
Another television switched on.
Then another.
The footage continued.
Outside, the front gates opened.
Black SUVs rolled into the driveway one after another.
Police.
Federal investigators.
Corporate fraud agents.
And behind them...
my father stepped out of the lead vehicle.
May you like
Richard Whitmore had not come to rescue me.
He had come to end Adrian Stone.
