Chapter 806
The living room of Cliffside Haven was a masterpiece of Brutalist architecture—concrete, glass, and minimalism. Bennett was currently doing his best to ruin it with his oily presence.
“This sofa is too hard,” Victoria complained, sitting next to him, playing her part with a dedication that deserved an Oscar. “And why is it so dark in here? Open the blinds. I need light!”
“The blinds are closed for sniper protection, Victoria,” Lucian said, standing by the wall with his arms crossed. “Unless you want a 7.62mm round in your forehead, I suggest you leave them alone.”
Bennett chuckled. It was a smooth, dry sound. “Dramatic. The Board is worried about this… paramilitary environment Parker has dragged you into. I’m here to audit the assets and ensure the family legacy isn’t compromised.”
He sat down opposite me. I was cleaning my gun. I didn’t look up.
“So, the attack,” Bennett said, leaning forward. “Ethan Vance? I heard he was… neutralized?”
“He’s in custody,” Alistair lied smoothly from the chaise, his voice weak but authoritative. “Handed him over to the Feds an hour ago.”
“Ah.” Bennett’s eye twitched. Just a fraction. “The Feds. Good. Very good. And the… data? The hard drives from the mill? The Board is terrified of liability.”
Rо𝗺𝖺𝗻𝘤𝗲 aո𝗱 𝗉a𝘀ѕіоn 𝗈𝘯 𝘨𝖺𝘭nо𝘷𝘦𝗅𝗌.𝖼𝗼𝘮
“Secure,” I said. “Why do you ask?”
“Just due diligence,” he said quickly. “We wouldn’t want Hayes Industries implicated in cyber-terrorism.”
“We prefer to handle things in-house,” Lucian said.
I watched Bennett’s hands. He clasped them together, but his right index finger tapped against his left thumb. Tap. Tap. Tap. It wasn’t a nervous tic. It was a pattern.
The real Parker, watching from the security room monitor, texted my phone: Check his hands. He’s got calluses on his palms, not his fingertips. He’s a shooter, not a lawyer. And he’s tapping Morse code.
I looked at the text, then back at the man.
“Bathroom?” Bennett asked suddenly, standing up. “It was a long flight.”
“Down the hall, second door on the left,” Lucian pointed.
Bennett smiled and walked away.
As soon as he turned the corner, I stood. “I need to check on dinner.”
I didn’t go to the kitchen. I slipped off my shoes and moved silently down the hallway, hugging the shadows of the concrete walls.
Bennett hadn’t gone to the bathroom. He’d walked past it. He was standing in front of Alistair’s study—the room where the server access terminal was located.
He didn’t pull out a crude lockpick. He wasn’t that amateur. He pulled a small, sleek device from his jacket pocket—a high-end RF sniffer and keypad-bypass unit. He adhered it to the panel next to the biometric lock.
I held my breath, raising my phone to record.
The device hummed, cycling through encryption keys. The light on the lock blinked yellow, then green.
“Impressive tech for a family lawyer,” I said.
Bennett spun around. His hand flew to his jacket pocket—the inside pocket, where a shoulder holster would be.
He saw me. He froze.
For a second, the mask slipped. His eyes weren’t charming. They were dead. Flat. Shark-like. He calculated the distance between us. He calculated the noise. He calculated whether he could snap my neck before Lucian heard.
Then the smile snapped back into place.
“Skye,” he exhaled, laughing nervously. “You startled me. I got turned around. This house is a maze.”
“The bathroom is twenty feet back that way,” I said, keeping my phone raised. “This is the study. It has a biometric lock overlay on a keypad. Which you just bypassed.”
“I was just… curious,” he said, taking a step toward me. “I love architecture. I wanted to see the view.”
“The view is better from the living room,” I said, not backing down. “Step away from the door.”
He stopped. His eyes narrowed. “You’re smarter than you look, Skye Sterling. That can be dangerous.”
“I’m not just smart,” I said, my voice cold. “I’m the one who owns the security system.”
“Is that so?” He leaned against the wall, his posture relaxing, but his muscles stayed coiled. “Well, let’s just say… I’m a friend. A friend who wants to help you protect what’s inside that room from people like Ethan.”
“I choose my friends carefully,” I said. “And they don’t hack my house.”
“Fair enough.” He pulled the device off the door and pocketed it. “Let’s go back. Victoria will be wondering where we are.”
He walked past me. As he did, he paused, his shoulder brushing mine.
“Don’t play games you can’t win, Skye,” he whispered.
A chill ran down my spine. He wasn’t just a spy.
He was a killer.
And he was inside the house.