Chapter 4 - The Shadow in the Halls
The grandfather clock in the penthouse corridor struck two in the morning.
Lily had finally fallen into a deep, sedative-free sleep, her small fingers still curled into Claire's cuff.
Gabriel had left the room an hour earlier, his phone pressed to his ear as he barked commands across the harbor.
Claire gently slipped out from beneath the blankets, tucking a bolster against Lily’s side.
She needed to inspect the nursery.
If someone had been poisoning the child’s water, the tools had to be hidden somewhere within arm's reach.
Claire inspected the bathroom, checking the pipes beneath the gold faucets and the medicine cabinet.
Nothing seemed out of place except the overwhelming smell of lavender air freshener masking the vents.
She knelt beside the massive mahogany headboard where Lily had cowered for four days.
Her fingers brushed against the carved floral moldings near the carpet.
Her fingertip caught on a tiny ridge of black electrical tape.
Claire pulled carefully, peeling back a miniature audio transmitter wired directly into the penthouse’s electrical conduit.
The red diode on the transmitter was blinking steadily.
Someone was listening to every word spoken in this room in real time.
"Drop it," a voice whispered from the darkness of the doorway.
Claire spun around, pressing her back against the headboard.
Marcus, Gabriel’s chief head of security, stepped out of the shadows with a suppressed pistol leveled at her chest.
His knuckles were bruised, and his dark eyes were flat with cold calculation.
"Mister Varrick warned me you were too curious for a nursery teacher," Marcus whispered, taking a slow step forward.
"He thinks you are a miracle worker."
"I think you are Salvatore Moretti's paid informant."
Claire held up the blinking bug between two fingers, keeping her breathing level and calm.
"If I worked for Moretti, why would I find his transmitter?" Claire countered, refusing to lower her gaze.
"Because you didn't find it," Marcus said, raising the weapon to align with her forehead.
"You were caught retrieving it."
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Behind Marcus, a shadow separated from the heavy velvet drapes near the terrace doors.
A gloved hand reached around Marcus’s throat, snapping backward with brutal, practiced efficiency before the guard could squeeze the trigger.
