Chapter 6 - The Unraveling
That evening, Clara executed her move.
She knew that Colette Dane received her daily medical authorization forms directly from Julian’s office. If Julian was using Colette to keep Odette terrified, there had to be a paper trail of altered dietary guidelines.
At ten o'clock, while the estate was changing security guards, Clara slipped into the medical wing office using a brass master key she had swiped from the head housekeeper’s trolley.
The room was dark, smelling of rubbing alcohol and expensive perfume.
Clara moved quickly, opening the filing cabinets behind Colette’s desk. She pulled out Odette’s medical charts, flipping through the pages under the dim light of her pen flashlight.
There it was.
Every week, a signed directive from Julian Vance’s desk instructed Colette to 're-evaluate' Odette’s food safety protocols whenever the older woman showed signs of physical improvement. Attached to the back of the files were receipts for massive monthly wire transfers sent from a shell company registered in Panama straight into Colette Dane's private bank account.
Julian was paying the nutritionist to keep Odette sick and paranoid.
Suddenly, the lights in the office snapped on.
"Looking for something, Miss Whitmore?"
Colette Dane stood by the light switch, her face twisted in a cold sneer. Behind her stood two heavy-set syndicate security guards holding silenced handguns.
Clara didn't panic. She held the thick stack of financial receipts firmly in her hand.
"You sold out a starving old woman for three hundred thousand dollars, Colette," Clara said, her voice filled with disgust.
Colette let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Odette Savelli was an old fool who stumbled onto Julian’s offshore transfers. She was supposed to die four months ago, but the dose wasn't high enough. Keeping her weak and terrified was the second-best option."
Colette turned to the two armed guards. "Take her down to the boiler room. Make it look like a tragic accident. A cook slipping on a wet floor."
The two guards stepped forward, their heavy hands reaching for Clara’s arms.
Clara reacted instantly. Using her momentum, she grabbed a heavy stainless-steel tray from the medical counter and slammed it sideways into the first guard’s face.
CRACK.
The man stumbled back, his nose broken, blood spattering across his black suit.
The second guard lunged, grabbing Clara’s shoulder, shoving her hard against the desk. Clara gasped in pain as her lower back slammed against the wooden edge, but she reached out, grabbing a glass bottle of surgical alcohol, smashing it over the guard's head.
"Run!" Clara screamed to herself, sprinting out of the office into the main corridor, clutching the stolen financial documents tightly to her chest.
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Shots rang out behind her—hissing sounds as suppressed bullets bit into the plaster walls.
Clara ran faster than she ever had in her life, her soft curves moving with surprising agility through the maze-like hallways of the estate, heading straight for the grand study where she knew Matthias was holding his late-night leadership meeting.
