Chapter 13 - The Confession
I stood completely paralyzed, my hand still hovering near the glowing interface of the locked biometric safe.
Owen did not yell, and he did not draw the heavy tactical pistol resting on the small table beside him.
His chilling calmness was infinitely more terrifying than any violent outburst could ever be.
"Who are you stealing my ledger for, Clara?"
He asked the question with a soft, lethal curiosity, taking a slow sip of his expensive whiskey.
The heavy silence in the office was suffocating, completely crushing the remaining breath from my lungs.
I knew that lying to him now would guarantee my absolute destruction.
Tears of pure, agonizing shame spilled hot over my eyelashes, trailing rapidly down my pale cheeks.
"Victor Russo," I choked out, my voice trembling so violently it was barely recognizable.
Owen’s jaw tightened imperceptibly at the mention of the rival lieutenant, but his dark eyes remained entirely unreadable.
"And what exactly did Russo leverage to convince the woman I love to betray me in my own home?"
I closed my eyes, entirely unable to bear the sheer weight of his intense, calculating gaze.
"He threatened to tell you the truth about the car crash," I whispered, the devastating words tearing violently from my throat.
I collapsed onto my knees on the expensive Persian rug, completely surrendering to the overwhelming guilt.
"My father’s creditors threatened to kill Leo if I didn't drive the getaway car that night. I didn't know it was you until the next day, Owen. I swear to God I didn't know."
I braced myself for the violent, lethal rage that was destined to follow my horrific confession.
Instead, I heard the soft clink of ice as Owen placed his whiskey glass down on the table.
He walked slowly across the room, his heavy footsteps stopping directly in front of my kneeling form.
He reached down, his massive, scarred hands gently gripping my shoulders and pulling me forcefully to my feet.
I forced myself to look at him, fully expecting to see absolute hatred burning in his eyes.
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But there was no hatred, only a profound, incredibly deep sorrow mixed with unwavering resolve.
"I have known exactly who was behind the wheel of that car since the first night we arrived at this estate, Clara."
