THE BILLIONIARE DON WANTS ME DEAD

CHAPTER 5

Adrick’s POV

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Lyra is acting suspicious. I stand on the balcony, watching the three women as they dig the sand behind the mansion. The shovel goes in, then comes out, in then out and they’re working like men under the sun.

They keep going and I sip wine from my glass. The holes become deep enough and they each have their trees to plant.

When they’re done, Lyra takes their shovels, presumably to go to the shed. But it was more than that. She walked the long mile alone to the shed while the other two went to their quarters.

Lyra enters the shed, but she doesn’t come out immediately after. Go in, drop the shovels, come out has become, her staying in there longing than necessary. I watch and wait, then she’s finally out, looking left then right and dusting her outfit.

Martha is nowhere in sight, so she’s walking into the mansion. I can no longer see her so I leave the balcony and head to the security room, sending the guard out and sitting to watch the cameras.

I can stop her from walking around but I want to know what exactly she’s looking for, or where she’s looking for it. Whatever she finds, and that's if she can find anything will be useless, because she isn’t going to find her way out of here. But I still need to know what she’s on about.

She’s entering different rooms, multiple rooms, rooms she wasn’t assigned to do anything in. She walks in, looks around, scanning the place, then she walks out. She goes to the room beside the one she just came out of, then the one after and after and after.

Maybe that was how Lucia tried to find the vault. Lyra moves in perfect time, five minutes in one room, then she’s out and five minutes into the next, but she’s not checking any clock. She’s just looking left and right to see if anyone is around or nearby. Was that what she did whenever I was in the office?

I didn’t go to the office today because I wanted to watch my girls practice the first version of digging their own graves. And also because I was perfectly capable of doing some things from home. But this, this is interesting.

Lyra is on a hunt for something, obviously, and that just makes my blood boil even more. How much like Lucia could she possibly be.

In the midst of all the 5 minutes in and out, she stands in front of a statue, too long to be intentional. Like she was seeing something in the statue, her body is still and her eyes stay glued to it for a few minutes before she moves forward and uses her fingers to trace the statue. Caressing my statue like it was more than a detailed rock. Like it was something that needed her touch, though I won’t deny her touch on it was beautiful in a way. Mesmerising.

What was it about her hands? Her fingers. They leave the statue and she turns to the next door. Some guards are walking around and she slides, hiding herself behind a pillar. She was fast, fast in a way that wasn’t normal. In a way that said she wasn’t like the other two copies. Something about Lyra was more.

The guards pass by and she’s out again, twisting and getting herself into rooms, opening drawers and closets. It was almost fun watching it, it was almost amusing knowing she wasn’t going to get anything, knowing I was going to draw it out of her when I saw her again.

But I’m still stuck in the endless moore of wanting to tie her up and wanting to see her legs move. The former is stronger, so I leave the security room, go to mine and call Martha in.

Martha walks in with a note in hand, but it has nothing to do with me. It’s one of her notes for organising the house or the girls. Then I tell her, “Seventeen is sneaking around the mansion.”

She bows and says, “She should be in her quarters. I’ll make sure to have her back there.”

“Can you do that?” I ask. “I could let you off if you can’t do your job well.”

“My apologies, Mr. Adrick. I’ll make sure I see the girls doing their jobs well.”

“You don’t only see it, Martha. You make sure of it.”

“I’ll do better,” she says.

“You can leave now.”

She turns then walks to the door, and with her hand reaching for the handle, I say, “The brown haired.”

“Yes?” she asks.

“What’s her name?”

“Clara.”

“Call Clara in.”

“Yes, Mr. Adrick.”

Martha walks out of my room, I expect her to handle Lyra, she was always good at handling them. All of them, except when Lucia was involved. But that was more of my fault. I was the one who let her into my bed, I was the one who believed her lies, I was the one who had given her the green light. My trust, my heart and in turn, she took my money.

I clench my hands and I take a breath in. I was going to get Lucia. I was going to find Lucia. I was going to kill Lucia. I was going to win, because that was what I always do, win.

I stand and see the files of her three copies on my desk, beside the only picture I had of Lucia. I made copies of the files, ironically, and I kept them all together. I kept them with me, I kept the feeling close, so as the days pass, I remember how far I am from my goal. I remind myself how much closer I need to go. And I remember why I got the copies to begin with.

I hear a knock on my door and I know it's the first copy. Clara.