Chapter 11

Clara's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm that threatened to crack her chest wide open. The cold steel of the hammer hovered above her, a brutal guillotine waiting to sever not her head, but her soul. Her hands were her livelihood. Her identity.

Marcus's grip on her wri

Chapter 12

The heavy steel doors of the warehouse groaned and gave way completely, slamming against the concrete floor with a sound like a thunderclap. Dust plumed into the air, illuminated by the harsh, blinding beams of tactical flashlights cutting through the gloom.

"Sterling!" a voice roared.

Chapter 13

The limousine glided to a halt in front of the Grand Atrium, its tires whispering against the rain-slicked pavement. Outside, the night was ablaze with the blinding flashes of paparazzi cameras and the glow of spotlights sweeping across the museum’s neoclassical facade. A towering banner