Chapter 3

I slipped off a heavy gold bracelet I had sneaked out of the house and pressed it desperately into the hands of the only girl at the sinks.

She looked young, barely in college, with kind, startled eyes. She pushed the gold back toward me and immediately handed over her iPhone.

"Keep it, ma'am. Are you in trouble? Do you need me to call the police?"

I shook my head frantically, took the phone, and rapidly dialed the number memorized in my head.

"Ring… ring…"

The call connected. A raspy, guarded voice came through the speaker. "Who is this?"

Tears pricked my eyes as I whispered, "I've lost my memory. Who… who are you?"

"Clara?!"

The man gasped, his voice cracking with sheer panic. "Clara?! You lost your memory? How? Where the hell are you right now? I'm coming to get you!"

His voice washed over me with an instinctual, profound sense of safety.

Tears spilled over my lashes. In that fraction of a second, my gut told me I could trust him with my life.

"Listen to me! Vincent Vance and Lucas are holding me captive. I don't know what they want from me—I remember nothing. I’m trapped in a private estate in the southern hills. Vincent’s guards are right outside. I don't have much time."

"Do you know me? Please, tell me what to do!"

The other end fell silent for a heartbeat, then his voice returned, cold and razor-sharp. "Those bastards finally made their move."

"Clara, listen carefully. If they're keeping you alive and playing nice, they need you to decrypt a file. It’s a classified technological blueprint critical to our family’s survival. I can't explain it all over the phone."

"Whatever you do, do NOT finish the decryption for them! The second you crack that cipher, you lose your value, and they will kill you!"

"I'm overseas right now. The fastest flight back will take me a week—"

A wave of static crackled violently across the line, cutting him off.

"Hello? Hello?!" I hissed, but the call went dead.

Outside the door, heavy, hurried footsteps echoed against the tile.

Vincent's security detail was closing in.

I couldn't risk another second. I shoved the phone back to the girl, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Listen to me! If anyone asks, I only asked you for a paper towel. You never saw me touch a phone. Please. I swear I'll find a way to repay you someday!"

The girl nodded dumbly, terrified.

The footsteps reached the threshold. I took a deep breath, stepped up to the sink, and pretended to wash my hands.

"Bang!"

The door was shoved open. Two women burst in, chest heaving.

I didn't recognize their faces, but their muscular frames gave them away instantly.

"Jesus!" I snapped, jumping back in faux outrage. "Do you mind? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

I dried my hands with a paper towel, scowled at them, and brushed past them into the hallway.

Slowing my pace near the corridor, I heard hushed, urgent voices inside the restroom.

One of the female guards muttered, "Checked her recent calls—nothing to the police. Let her go."

A sigh of relief passed between them.

And a silent breath escaped my chest.

The truth was finally beginning to surface.