Chapter 3 - The Shadow of Tommy
The sun rose behind a thick blanket of grey clouds, casting a muted light over the grounds of the Vance estate.
Chloe woke up in the oversized canopy bed, her body aching from deep bruises she hadn't noticed during the madness of her escape. Her left knee was neatly bandaged, and someone had placed a set of clean, high-quality cashmere lounge clothes on the chair near the foot of the bed.
She dressed slowly, her mind racing. The mansion was quiet, wrapped in an atmosphere of discipline and wealth. She walked over to the tall French windows overlooking the rear gardens. Below, two men in dark suits walked the perimeter, their eyes constantly scanning the tree line.
A quiet knock at the door made her jump.
“Miss Chloe?” Arthur’s voice called out gently. “Breakfast is served in the main dining room, if you feel up to joining Mr. Vance.”
Chloe swallowed hard, smoothing down the front of her borrowed sweater. “I'll... I'll be right out.”
Five minutes later, she walked down the grand staircase and was led by Arthur into a sunlit dining room. A long, dark mahogany table occupied the center of the space. At the far end sat Julian, dressed in a fresh charcoal suit, reading a printed newspaper while sipping espresso.
He looked up as she entered, setting his cup down. “Sit.”
Chloe sat at the opposite end of the table, feeling tiny in the massive room. A servant immediately set a plate of fresh fruit, toast, and poached eggs before her, along with a cup of hot tea.
“How is your knee?” Julian asked, his voice businesslike.
“It’s fine. Thank you,” Chloe said quietly, looking at the food, her stomach knotting. “Mr. Vance... what are you going to do to Tommy?”
Julian folded his newspaper neatly, laying it on the table. “That depends on what Tommy decides to do today.”
Before Chloe could process his answer, the double doors of the dining room swung open. A younger man with broad shoulders, sharp features, and a tactical holster visible beneath his leather jacket stepped into the room. This was Marcus, Julian’s chief of security and right-hand man.
“Boss,” Marcus said, his voice clipped. “We have a situation at the southern distribution warehouse.”
Julian didn't look surprised. “Report.”
“Tommy Miller brought twenty of his guys to the gates twenty minutes ago,” Marcus said, a faint, contemptuous sneer on his lips. “He’s claiming we’re hiding a thief who stole valuable property from his club last night. He’s causing a scene, blocking our supply trucks, demanding to speak with you directly.”
Chloe dropped her fork; the silver utensil rattled against the fine porcelain plate. Panic seized her throat. “He tracked me here? How could he know?”
“He didn't track you,” Julian said calmly, taking a slow sip of his espresso. “The men who chased you last night recognized my car’s license plate. They reported back to Tommy that you ran toward my vehicle. Tommy is stupid enough to believe he can demand things from me.”
Chloe stood up, her chair scraping harshly against the marble floor. “He’s dangerous, Mr. Vance! He won't care who you are when he’s angry! He’s crazy—he has guns, he has people who will do anything for him!”
Julian stood up slowly, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket. He didn't look angry; he looked like a man preparing for a minor administrative meeting.
“Marcus,” Julian said, ignoring Chloe’s outburst. “Prepare the escort. We are going to the southern warehouse.”
Marcus nodded. “Do you want the heavy squad?”
“No,” Julian replied coldly. “Just six men. I don't want to overcomplicate an eradication.”
Chloe stepped into his path, her eyes wide with terror. “Please, don't leave me here! If Tommy finds out—”
Julian stopped right in front of her. His tall frame cast a long shadow over her, but for the first time, his dark eyes softest slightly, assessing the sheer terror written across her face.
“Tommy will not lay a finger on you again, Chloe,” Julian said, his voice carrying an absolute, unshakeable certainty. “You are under my roof now. In my world, taking what belongs to another man is a crime. But taking what rests under my protection is a declaration of war.”
He turned to Marcus. “Bring her with us.”
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Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Boss? To the warehouse?”
“Tommy wants his property back,” Julian said, a dark, dangerous smile touching his lips as he glanced down at Chloe. “I want him to see who owns it now.”
