Fucking Clara.The woman who'd once been desperate enough to lie about her entire identity just to escape her problems for one night.The temptress, mistress, and actress all rolled into one.She’d committed the mortal sin—lying—which normally meant I left a person behind and never looked back.My own father had lied to my mother about his identity, his name, everything—a fact she found out after trying to continue connecting him with his sons after our birth.He’d given her ten grand and vanished, leaving no way for us to ever find out his true identity.
I hated liars with a quaking, gut-wrenching passion.
But right now, Ineededa liar.
I pulled out my phone, scrolling to Marina’s number.
“Why do I feel like you just had a eureka moment?"Archer asked, twisting to look at me from the front seat.God damn the twin connection.He could sense my thoughts sometimes before I even had them.
"Just handling some business."I typed out a quick text to Marina.
NASH: Need you to research someone.Clara Whitehall.Last known job was with Elite Events that catered the office opening.Get me everything - current address, employment history, family, financial situation.Discreetly.
When we pulled up to the Meridian Manufacturing complex, I could see immediately that something was wrong.Construction crews were already on site, and several black SUVs were parked near the main entrance.
"Well, shit," Archer said.
Trojan pulled into a long alley that divided two of the buildings on this block, just under a sign with an arrow that said RECEPTION.As we walked toward the factory, a security guard in all black with an earpiece intercepted us.
"Sorry, gentlemen, this is private property.You'll need to move along."
“We’re here to speak to the owners,” I said, searching him for some indicator of who he was with.Regular factories didn’t usually have guards likethis.He looked like he’d stepped off Air Force One.
“We come in peace,” Archer cracked.
"I said you need to move along."The guard’s voice left no room for misinterpretation.“This is private property.”
“I understand.But we’re here for business.This is a place of business, is it not?”I offered my coolest smile, but the guard wasn't having it.
"Sir, you need to leave.Now."
Before any of us could respond, a voice called out from near the main entrance.
"Is there a problem over here?"
Another security guard approached, this one carrying a tablet and looking slightly less militant than our new friend.
"Just some guys trying to get access to the property," the first guard explained.
"Mr.Cross specifically said no unauthorized visitors today," the second guard said, checking his tablet."Too much going on with the inspection."
A sick wave of realization rolled through my body.Mr.Cross.Archer and I exchanged glances, both of us thinking the same thing.
In the distance, I could see a tall man in an expensive suit standing near the main entrance, talking animatedly with what looked like a construction foreman.
Sebastian Cross.It had to be.The most ruthless developer in the city who gave zero fucks when it came to morality, loyalty, or neighborhood preservation.
"When did Mr.Cross purchase the property?"I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
The second guard looked up from his tablet, suspicious."That's not really your business, is it?"
"We were interested in this property ourselves."Archer offered a smile that died as soon as it reached the air.
"Well, you're too late.Now move along before I have to call this in."
Trojan tipped his head toward the car, as though urging us to give it up.“Come on, guys.”
We walked back to the car in strained silence.Before I got into the back seat, I turned back to the main entrance.The first guard watched us steadily, arms crossed.
