Chapter 3 - The Interrogation
Elias Vance took the watch from his subordinate’s hand.
He examined the heavy platinum casing, running his thumb over the engraved initials on the back.
V.K.
Elias looked at Clara, his cold smile vanishing entirely.
“Victor Kaine’s watch,” Elias stated, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
“The one he never takes off.”
Clara’s mind raced, analyzing every possible exit, every possible excuse.
There were none.
She was caught.
“I treated a man,” Clara admitted, her voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through her veins.
“He came in bleeding. I stitched him up. He paid me a hundred dollars, left the watch on the counter, and walked out the door.”
Elias stepped forward and grabbed Clara roughly by the throat, slamming her back against the brick facade of her apartment building.
“Do not lie to me!” Elias roared, his aristocratic facade shattering into pure violence.
“Victor Kaine does not walk away from a machete wound to the gut!”
“Where is he?”
Clara choked, her hands gripping Elias’s wrists, trying to pry his fingers away from her windpipe.
“He walked out!” Clara gasped. “I swear!”
“Check the cameras on the street! I didn't hide him!”
Elias released her, letting her slump against the wall, coughing violently.
“We did check the cameras,” Elias sneered.
“The cameras on this block have been disabled since midnight.”
“Someone wiped the feeds.”
Clara rubbed her bruised throat, staring up at him in genuine confusion.
“I didn't wipe any cameras. I don't even have Wi-Fi in my apartment.”
Elias pulled a suppressed handgun from his shoulder holster and aimed it at Clara’s head.
“If Victor is dead, and you sold him out to the Colombians for this watch, I am going to make your death last for three agonizing days.”
Before Elias could pull the trigger, a sleek, black town car tore down the street, ignoring the blockade of SUVs.
The car screeched to a halt right on Clara’s front lawn.
The rear door opened, and a man stepped out.
He was moving stiffly, leaning heavily on a silver-headed cane, wearing a fresh, immaculate suit.
It was Victor Kaine.
He looked pale, and his posture was rigid with pain, but his dark, unforgiving eyes were burning with authority.
“Lower the weapon, Elias,” Victor commanded, his rough baritone voice echoing down the silent street.
Elias froze in absolute shock.
He immediately holstered his weapon and bowed his head slightly.
“Mr. Kaine. We thought you were dead. Where have you been?”
Victor Kaine didn't look at Elias.
He looked directly at Clara, who was still leaning against the brick wall, gasping for air.
May you like
“I have been securing our borders,” Victor said coldly.
“And I am very disappointed to see how you treat the woman who saved my life, Elias.”
