Chapter 4 - The Boss’s Study
Adrian’s private study on the third floor of Hawthorne Estate looked less like an office and more like a war room.
Dark mahogany bookshelves lined the walls, filled with ledgers, legal texts, and antique firearms encased in glass. A massive slate-gray desk dominated the center of the room, littered with security feeds, personnel files, and the dismantled pieces of the 9mm handgun found in Vivian’s wedding dress.
When Grace entered, Adrian was standing by the tall arched window, holding a crystal glass of amber bourbon. He didn't turn around immediately.
“Sit down, Grace,” he said, his deep, resonant voice echoing slightly in the quiet room.
Grace remained standing near the door. “I’d prefer to stand, Mr. Cross.”
Adrian finally turned around. His dark eyes swept over her with an intense, analytical scrutiny that made her feel like an insect under a microscope.
“You’ve worked here three years,” Adrian noted, walking slowly toward his desk. “Clean record. Never complained about hours. Single mother, living in the south district.”
“I do my job, sir,” Grace said steadily, refusing to shrink under his gaze. “I don't cause problems.”
“Yet today, your daughter stumbles into the most heavily guarded bridal suite in the state and uncovers a targeted assassination weapon sewn directly into the bride’s couture gown,” Adrian said, leaning his hips against the edge of his desk. “Some people might call that an extraordinary coincidence.”
Grace’s breath caught in her throat. “You think I put it there? Mr. Cross, I clean toilets and fold laundry! I don't even know what a gun looks like close up, let alone how to sew one into silk!”
“I don't think you put it there, Grace,” Adrian said quietly, his expression softening by a fraction of a millimeter. “If you had, your daughter wouldn't have pulled the train. You’re too smart for that.”
Grace let out a slow, shaky breath. “Then why am I here?”
“Because of what Lily said before she left the suite,” Adrian said, pouring another finger of bourbon into his glass. “She mentioned a man with a shiny watch.”
Grace frowned, searching her memory. “She said that downstairs in the kitchen too. But lots of people wear watches, Mr. Cross. Every guest at this wedding is wearing a Rolex or a Patek Philippe.”
“Not like this one,” Adrian said, walking over to a side table and picking up a small, heavy silver object recovered from the floor near the bridal suite entrance. He held it out.
It was a broken gold cufflink, intricately engraved with a serpent emblem biting its own tail.
Grace stared at it. “I... I don't know what that is.”
“It’s a custom piece,” Adrian said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, chilling register. “Only three men in my inner circle wear this crest. And only one man in Vincent DeLuca’s delegation wears its mirror image.”
Grace looked up into Adrian’s dark eyes. For the first time, she saw the terrifying reality of the man standing in front of her—a predator hunting a traitor within his own house.
“What do you want me to do?” Grace asked.
May you like
Adrian stepped closer, stopping just a foot away from her. Up close, he towered over her, radiating an aura of absolute, unyielding power.
“I want you to help me find out who wants this wedding to end in blood,” Adrian said softly. “Because if I don't find them by sunrise, the streets of this city are going to run red. And your daughter, and every other innocent person in this house, won't survive the crossfire.”
