Chapter 3 - The Hidden Eye
Claire shoved the leather folder back into Arthur’s chest.
“Get out of my house.”
Arthur’s polite facade vanished instantly.
“You are making a terrible mistake, Claire.”
“I will take my chances.”
She slammed the door in his face and locked the deadbolt.
Her hands were shaking so hard she could barely hold her tea cup.
Nathaniel was paying Evelyn’s father to buy her silence.
She needed proof of what really happened in that coatroom.
Suddenly, Claire remembered the teddy bear keychain hanging on her work bag.
Maya had given it to her last week for her birthday.
It wasn't just a toy.
It was a cheap nanny cam Claire had bought online to monitor the babysitter, which she had absentmindedly clipped to her purse.
She rushed to her bedroom and grabbed her bag off the floor.
The tiny red light on the bear’s plastic nose was still blinking.
She plugged the hidden camera into her old laptop and waited for the files to load.
The video quality was terrible, but the audio was crystal clear.
She fast-forwarded to the time of the reception.
The screen showed the dark inside of the coatroom from the angle of her bag on the shelf.
Footsteps echoed on the audio track.
Two people walked into the room.
Claire held her breath, leaning closer to the speakers.
“Put it in the housekeeper’s bag,” a man’s voice whispered.
It wasn't Nathaniel.
It was Marcus, the Whitmore estate manager.
“Are you sure about this,” a woman replied.
Claire gasped.
The woman wasn't Evelyn either.
It was Sarah, the sweet, quiet pastry chef Claire had considered a friend.
“Mr. Whitmore gave the order himself,” Marcus said on the recording.
“He said Claire is the perfect distraction.”
Claire heard the zipper of her bag open.
The heavy clink of the sapphire bracelet dropping inside echoed through the laptop.
Claire stared at the screen in absolute horror.
The man she loved had orchestrated her ruin.
But as the video kept playing, the camera caught a glimpse of Marcus’s wrist in the dark.
He was wearing a silver watch with a cracked face.
Claire froze.
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Nathaniel wore a Rolex, but she had seen that cracked silver watch before.
It belonged to the journalist who had been standing in the corridor holding a phone.
