Chapter 8 - The Choice
The warehouse was almost empty when I arrived.
The doors were open.
Security cameras were disabled.
I walked inside.
“Marcus!”
No answer.
Then I heard Clara.
“Adrian!”
I ran toward her voice.
She was standing in the office.
Marcus was behind her.
A gun was in his hand.
I stopped.
“Let her go.”
Marcus smiled.
“You finally came.”
“Let her go.”
“You know what your mistake was?”
I said nothing.
“You thought power was money.”
He gestured around the warehouse.
“You built an empire.”
“Put the gun down.”
“But your father understood something you never did.”
“What?”
“Power is fear.”
Clara looked at me.
I could see she was terrified.
But she was standing.
She was fighting.
I slowly lowered my hands.
“What do you want?”
“Everything.”
“You'll get nothing.”
Marcus laughed.
“Then she dies.”
Clara suddenly spoke.
“You're afraid.”
Marcus looked at her.
“What?”
“You've spent years hiding behind other people.”
He stepped toward her.
“You don't know anything about me.”
“I know you couldn't defeat Adrian.”
Her voice trembled.
“So you destroyed everyone around him.”
Marcus raised the gun.
I stepped forward.
“Enough.”
Clara looked at me.
For one second, I understood what she was doing.
She was buying time.
Victor's men were outside.
Marcus didn't know.
“You want the company?” I said.
“Yes.”
“I'll sign it over.”
Clara's eyes widened.
I continued.
“But you let her leave first.”
Marcus smiled.
“You'd give up everything for her?”
“Yes.”
He stared at me.
Then laughed.
“You're exactly like your father.”
“No.”
I looked at Clara.
“I'm better.”
The lights suddenly came on.
Victor's men surrounded the warehouse.
Marcus spun.
The gun dropped.
Within seconds, he was restrained.
The police arrived moments later.
Marcus was arrested.
The years of evidence we'd collected finally gave investigators what they needed.
My mother was arrested too.
She didn't fight.
As she was taken away, she looked at me.
“I'm sorry.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
It didn't erase anything.
But I believed her.
Outside, rain began falling.
Clara stood beside me.
She was trembling.
I took off my coat.
She smiled.
“You always do that.”
“What?”
“Give me your coat.”
“I guess some things don't change.”
She looked at me.
“Adrian.”
“Yes?”
“I was wrong about you.”
I swallowed.
“I was wrong about you too.”
She looked at my hand.
Then slowly took it.
I held on.
Three years ago, I had lost her because I believed silence was easier than asking questions.
Tonight, I understood.
May you like
Love doesn't die from one terrible moment.
It dies from all the things people refuse to say.
