Part 24: The Penthouse Trap
Part 24: The Penthouse Trap
I bypassed security using an old access code my father had acquired.
When I reached the penthouse floor, the heavy double doors of Elias’s suite were locked.
But I could hear the shouting inside.
Not Clara shouting.
Elias.
“You think you can pack a bag behind my back?” his voice boomed through the heavy wood. “You have nothing without me! You are nothing!”
I signaled my father’s security team, who were stepping out of the service elevator down the hall.
We approached the door.
Inside, the atmosphere was suffocating.
Clara had been backed into the corner of the lavish living room.
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Her carefully packed overnight bag had been thrown across the floor, its contents scattered over the Persian rug.
She was trembling, her hands covering her face, the weight of years of psychological abuse finally crushing her to the ground.
