Chapter 12 - THE THING MONEY COULDN’T FIX
Grant locked the study door.
Adrian remained seated.
The gun stayed pointed at his chest.
Claire looked uneasy.
“This wasn’t the plan.”
Grant laughed.
“There hasn’t been a plan since Thomas kept those videos.”
“You said we were making him sign.”
“We are.”
Grant tossed papers onto the desk.
A resignation.
Transfer documents.
A statement claiming Adrian had fabricated accusations because of medication-related paranoia.
Adrian glanced at them.
“You expect me to sign this?”
Grant aimed the gun lower.
At Adrian’s right leg.
“I expect pain to improve your judgment.”
Claire flinched.
“Grant.”
“Shut up.”
For the first time, Adrian saw genuine fear in Claire’s eyes.
Interesting.
The partnership was over.
Grant had simply forgotten to tell her.
Adrian looked at Claire.
“He’ll blame you.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
Adrian continued.
“Every document leads to you. Every camera shows you.”
“Stop talking.”
“The shell company traces to Grant, but the public knows your face.”
Claire slowly looked at him.
Adrian kept going.
“If I die tonight, who do you think he says pulled the trigger?”
Grant stepped closer.
“You always loved hearing yourself talk.”
Adrian smiled faintly.
“And you always hated when I was right.”
Outside, Elena saw the upstairs study light flicker twice.
That wasn’t part of the plan.
She called Park.
“No signal from Adrian.”
“We lost audio.”
“I’m going in.”
“No.”
Elena had already opened the SUV door.
“Ms. Marquez—”
The call ended.
Elena crossed the side lawn and entered through the old kitchen window Adrian had told her never locked properly.
Inside the study, Grant slammed the gun onto the desk.
“Sign.”
Adrian picked up the pen.
Claire stared at him.
“Don’t.”
Grant turned toward her.
“What?”
Claire’s voice shook.
“If he signs, you don’t need either of us.”
Grant smiled.
Finally, Claire understood.
She stepped backward.
Grant pointed the gun at her.
Adrian moved.
Fast.
He swung his cane against Grant’s wrist.
The gun fired.
Wood exploded from the wall.
Claire screamed.
Grant crashed into Adrian.
The chair tipped backward.
Adrian hit the floor.
Pain shot through his hip.
Grant reached for the gun.
Then the study door slammed open.
Elena stood there holding a fireplace poker.
“Don’t.”
Grant laughed.
“You?”
She swung.
The poker struck his forearm.
The gun skidded under the desk.
Grant lunged at her.
Adrian grabbed Grant’s ankle from the floor.
Grant fell.
Claire ran.
“Elena!” Adrian shouted.
“Let her go!”
Grant kicked Adrian hard in the ribs.
Then climbed on top of him.
His hand closed around Adrian’s throat.
“You should’ve died in that car.”
The pressure increased.
Adrian couldn’t breathe.
Then Grant suddenly froze.
A voice came from behind him.
“Get off him.”
May you like
Claire stood in the doorway.
She had retrieved the gun.
