Chapter Four
1238 Words
Clyde Mansion
The Clyde Mansion sat atop Rosehill Avenue like a king atop his throne—an elegant, intimidating sprawl of stone and glass, surrounded by tall hedges and heavy iron gates.
Inside, in one of the west wing parlors, three men gathered.
Ever since Ash had made that one sentence, “it's about your lost sister,” the three brothers have tried, but failed, to keep their cool. It took everything in them not to rip the ends of the earth to get the answers they were looking for.
The guest room they waited in was large but intentionally intimate—deep navy walls, tall windows draped in velvet, a fireplace flickering low with orange warmth. A glass cabinet of fine wine stood beside a leather sectional, while an antique grandfather clock ticked softly in the background. The scent of burning sandalwood filled the air.
Adrian Clyde sat on a high-backed stool by the fireplace, a tumbler of whiskey cradled in his hand. His gaze was sharp, patient… deadly. Francis and Wayne sat on the lush leather couch, waiting patiently for Ash to bring in whoever she said knew about their missing sister's whereabouts.
Just immediately, near the door, Ash and Mateo dragged in a man—lanky, with sunken eyes and jittery hands. He struggled, but his resistance was laughable. Mateo’s grip on his collar tightened, while Ash shoved him forward.
“Whoa, whoa, hold on now—” the man stammered, stumbling.
He was thrown into the center of the room.
Adrian slowly stood, setting his drink down.
“Who’s this?” he asked calmly, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable.
Ash stepped forward. “Sir. He says he knows who took your sister.”
The room went still.
“Who are you? And what do you know about our sister?” Wayne asked.
All three brothers straightened, their previously casual demeanors dissolving into hard tension.
Mateo stepped behind the man and shoved him to his knees. “You better start talking,” he said. “We don’t have time for games.”
The man looked between them, sweat already forming at his brow. “I—I just know a few things, okay? I’m not involved in her k********g, I swear it!”
Adrian’s voice was like ice, he was the least patient amongst the brothers and had a short temper, “Then you won’t mind telling us everything you know. Slowly. From the beginning.”
The man flinched, hands trembling. “I—I don’t know anything! I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear—”
Adrian moved closer, backing him against the couch, his eyes cold and hard.
“Then why are you here?”
The man swallowed hard. “I was just… I was just a loan shark, alright? Some years ago, a man named George Lionel owed me a debt. He couldn’t pay… so he offered me something else.”
Francis, silent until now, suddenly stiffened at the name.
“Lionel?” he repeated sharply.
The man nodded. “Yeah. George Lionel. He said he couldn't pay up what he owed us. Motherfucker was a gambling addict, and he always took loans from me without ever paying back. His debts got so huge I just couldn't put up with him anymore. He also owed a few other people. So one day, we wreck his workplace, and he promised us he'd give us something even more valuable. He said he'd give this little girl to us. I wasn't into that, but this other loan shark was, and he agreed to take the girl for her to be sold, and get money for it. We were going to split the money evenly for his debts to be settled.”
Francis swung back a chair in great fury. The thought that something like that was going on annoyed the living daylights out of him. Adrian and Wayne were barely keeping their cool. It took everything in them not to rip this man's tongue out.
And he knew. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead and he seemed to lose his ability to speak.
Wayne said a dangerous low, “Go on…”
“Uh, yeah, so…so um, we all went to his house one night, and I don't know what happened, I was already at his front door, but then I heard a shot. Turns out this other loan shark and his boys had shot him, cause it looked like he wanted to run away through the back door. They hadn't meant to kill him, it was dark and he was just unlucky. But uh..I..I got a glimpse of the girl when I went in…she wasn't like any other girl.”
“What do you mean she wasn't like any other girl?” Francis asked, knuckles white.
“She looked expensive, from her stroller up to her baby clothes. It looked like she was just dragged from wherever she was taken from. She even had this very shiny red diamond necklace that was circle in shape. It had the initials ‘R’ on it…I thought it stood out so much.” The man swallowed. “And then when I got close, there's this birthmark that i-”
“Birthmark?” Francis asks, taking one step closer to the man who retreated.
“Uh, yeah…teardrop-shaped. On the shoulder blade. Like a damn calling card.”
Everyone tensed.
“That necklace,” Adrian said, “describe it again.”
“It was red and shiny. Circle. But in the middle was an initial I could make out, and it was the letter R…”
The room went still.
Adrian looked at his brothers. “That sounds like—”
“Mother’s necklace,” Francis finished, voice like steel. “She had it custom-made.”
Ash stepped forward then, clutching something in her hand. “Sir,” she said, addressing Francis, “Mateo and I followed up on this man’s story. He said he pawned the necklace after George was killed. We traced it.”
He handed over a printed photo. The moment Adrian, Wayne and Francis saw it, their breath caught.
The red diamond glimmered even through the photo, vivid and unmistakable.
Wayne's voice was tight. “That’s it.”
Adrian turned slowly back to the man. “Where are the Lionels now?”
The loan shark licked his lips. “Like I said, George was… shot. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did. His wife—Lucy—still lives in that house. Just her, their daughter… and a maid last I checked.”
Francis’s expression chilled further, and his words came like a final blow.
“Find that house. Tonight.”
Ash nodded. “Already working on it, sir.”
The man looked from one face to the other, the truth of what he’d stumbled into finally dawning on him. Three deadly men. One long-lost sister. And a blood trail leading straight to the past.
As Ash left the room to make calls and Mateo guided the man out, the Clyde brothers stood rooted in place.
Adrian’s voice broke the silence.
“Could this really be it?”
Wayne didn’t answer, his mind spinning. Francis’s knuckles had gone white.
The necklace. The name Lionel. The timing.
Everything was pointing in one direction.
And maybe—just maybe—they were finally about to find the girl they’d lost.
Their sister.
- Writer
