Chapter 1: The Drop
The silence in the grand ballroom was absolute, broken only by the ragged breathing of the tycoon, Arthur Sterling.
Before him stood Julian, his best man, his protégé, the man he had trusted like a son. Julian hovered at the edge of the open elevator shaft in the west wing, his tuxedo jacket rippling in the cold updraft. Between his forefinger and thumb, he pinched a sleek, obsidian flash drive.
"This contains the truth about why they needed you out of the picture," Julian sneered, his eyes locking onto Arthur’s.
"Don't do it, Julian!" Arthur barked, his authoritative voice finally cracking. "Whatever they paid you, I will triple it. Just step away from the ledge."
But Julian’s smirk only widened. "You still think this is about money, Arthur? You really are blind."
Armed security guards, dressed in all-black tactical gear, inched closer, their weapons drawn. The furious bride, Eleanor, who just moments ago had been exposed as a conspirator, was now thrashing against the grip of two massive guards across the hall.
"Shoot him!" Eleanor shrieked, her pristine white gown torn, her makeup running down her face in dark streaks. "He’s lying! He’s crazy! Shoot him now!"
Julian chuckled, a dark, hollow sound that echoed off the marble walls. "Always so impatient, Eleanor."
He looked away from the bride and locked eyes with the one person in the room who had no business being there—Chloe, the terrified waitress whose uniform was still torn from Eleanor's earlier assault. She was trembling against a pillar, clutching her bleeding arm.
"Catch, sweetheart," Julian said softly.
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the flash drive. It arced through the air, glinting under the crystal chandeliers.
As every guard lunged toward the flying drive, Julian simply leaned backward. He didn't scream. He didn't flail. He let gravity take him, disappearing into the pitch-black abyss of the elevator shaft.
Chaos erupted. Guards dove for the ledge, flashing heavy tactical lights down the shaft, while others tackled each other trying to secure the drive. But they were too late.
Chloe had reflexively caught it.
She stared down at the small piece of metal in her trembling, bloody palms. Suddenly, she felt a massive, warm hand clamp down on her shoulder. She looked up into the terrifying, icy blue eyes of Arthur Sterling.
"Give it to me," the tycoon demanded softly.
Chloe swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribs. She looked at Arthur, then at the screaming bride, and finally at the dark elevator shaft.
"No," Chloe whispered.
May you like
Arthur’s eyes widened. "Excuse me?"
"If I give this to you..." Chloe said, her voice steadying as a newfound survival instinct kicked in, "...I'm dead. Just like him."
