Chapter Five
1462 Words
The air was crisp against my skin as William and I approached Blue Sky Studios later that night. The towering building loomed above us, its sleek glass panels reflecting the dim glow of the city lights. Once, this place had been a symbol of my father’s hard work and integrity. Now, it felt more like enemy territory.
William glanced at me as we reached the employee entrance. “Last chance to back out,” he murmured.
I met his gaze, steady and unwavering. “Not a chance.”
He smirked. “That’s what I thought.”
With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he pulled a small key card from his pocket.
I raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly did you get that?”
“I have my ways,” he said cryptically, swiping the card against the scanner. The red light blinked green, and the door clicked open.
I exhaled slowly. “If I end up in jail for this, I’m blaming you.”
He chuckled, holding the door open for me. “Noted.”
We slipped inside, the air thick with silence. The once-busy halls of Blue Sky were eerily empty at this hour, the hum of security cameras the only sound filling the space.
“Bernard’s office is on the top floor,” I whispered.
William nodded, leading the way toward the elevators. We stepped inside, the doors sliding shut with a soft ding. As the numbers climbed, my pulse quickened.
If Bernard kept records of his dealings with The Broker, they had to be here. And if we found them, we could destroy him.
The elevator doors opened with a quiet chime, and we moved quickly, keeping to the shadows. Bernard’s office was at the end of the hall, and my stomach twisted as we approached the heavy mahogany doors.
I reached for the handle—locked.
“Figures,” I muttered.
William pulled something from his pocket—a small, thin piece of metal.
“You know how to pick locks?” I asked, surprised.
He shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve had an interesting education.”
I watched as he worked, his hands steady, his jaw tight with concentration. The lock clicked, and he pushed the door open, gesturing for me to go inside.
I slipped in, heart pounding, and flicked on the desk lamp.
The office was pristine, every surface meticulously arranged—except for the massive portrait of my father that used to hang behind the desk. Bernard had replaced it with a painting of himself.
Rage simmered beneath my skin, but I forced myself to focus. I moved to the desk, pulling open drawers, rifling through papers.
“Come on,” I whispered. “There has to be something.”
William moved to the filing cabinet, scanning the labels.
Minutes ticked by. My frustration grew. Then, in the bottom drawer of Bernard’s desk, I found a folder labeled Project Horizon.
I flipped it open, my breath catching. Inside were contracts, offshore bank transactions, and signed agreements—proof that Bernard and The Broker had been laundering money through Blue Sky.
And at the very bottom was something that made my blood run cold.
A signed order for the acquisition of my father’s shares. Dated two days before his death.
William stepped behind me, scanning the documents over my shoulder. He let out a low whistle. “That’s it,” he murmured. “That’s what you need.”
I gripped the papers tightly. This was it. The evidence that proved my father’s death hadn’t been an accident.
But just as I was about to tuck the folder into my bag, the unmistakable sound of a door opening down the hall sent a jolt of panic through me.
William’s eyes snapped to mine. “Someone’s here.”
I stuffed the papers into my jacket as footsteps echoed closer. William grabbed my hand, pulling me toward a side door just as Bernard’s voice cut through the silence.
“I know you’re in here.”
I froze.
William pulled me harder. “Emerald, move—”
But it was too late. The office door swung open.
Bernard stepped inside, his eyes landing on me immediately. His expression twisted into a slow, smug smile.
“Well,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “This is a surprise.”
William stepped in front of me instinctively, but I didn’t need him to shield me. I squared my shoulders, gripping the folder inside my jacket so tightly my fingers ached.
“You’ve been busy,” Bernard remarked, moving to his desk with infuriating calm. He leaned against it, regarding me like I was a minor inconvenience rather than a threat.
“Not as busy as you,” I shot back. “How long were you going to keep pretending you had nothing to do with my father’s death?”
Bernard chuckled. “Oh, Emerald. You really think you’re the first person to come after me?”
I clenched my jaw. “No. But I’ll be the last.”
His smile faltered for just a second. A flicker of irritation passed through his gaze before he masked it.
“You have no idea what you’re playing with,” he said. “You think exposing me will bring your father back? That it will change anything?”
“It will ruin you,” I said simply.
He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re just like him. Naïve. Believing the world is fair, that justice actually exists.”
William took a step forward. “You should be worried, Bernard.”
Bernard’s gaze flicked to William, assessing. Then he laughed. “Of course. The Carter boy. Did Daddy finally cut you off?”
William’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Bernard pushed away from the desk, moving toward us. “I don’t know what you think you’ve found, but whatever it is—it won’t be enough.”
I lifted my chin. “Then why do you look nervous?”
Bernard’s expression darkened. “I suggest you leave while you still can, Emerald.”
William’s hand brushed against my arm—a subtle signal to move.
“I don’t take advice from murderers,” I snapped before turning toward the door.
But Bernard’s voice stopped me.
“You’re so certain I killed him.”
I froze.
Bernard’s words sent a chill through me.
“What if I told you I wasn’t the one who ordered it?”
I held his gaze, trying to decipher the meaning behind his smug expression. He was playing a game, but I refused to let him rattle me.
“You expect me to believe that?” I shot back. “You had everything to gain from my father’s death.”
Bernard smirked, moving closer, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh, I did. And I won’t pretend I didn’t take advantage of the opportunity. But, Emerald—” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “I wasn’t the one who signed his death warrant.”
William tensed beside me. “Enough with the riddles, Bernard. Who did?”
Bernard chuckled. “You’re asking the wrong questions.”
I clenched my fists. I wanted to scream at him, to wipe that smug expression off his face. But then something clicked in my mind.
The Broker.
If Bernard hadn’t made the final call, that meant someone else had been working with The Broker to take my father out. And that someone had enough power to keep Bernard in check.
Who else would benefit from my father’s death?
Before I could push him further, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway outside.
Bernard sighed dramatically. “Looks like our time is up.”
William grabbed my hand. “Emerald, we need to go. Now.”
Bernard’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll see each other again real soon.”
I didn’t wait to find out what he meant. William and I bolted out of the office just as the security team burst in, their voices shouting after us.
As we ran through the darkened halls, past the memories of my father’s legacy now tainted by Bernard’s greed. My breath came in short gasps, but I refused to slow down.
We reached the emergency exit, bursting into the alley behind the building. The night air was cold against my burning lungs.
William pulled me toward his car parked nearby. “Get in.”
For once, I didn’t argue.
We sped away from Blue Sky Studios, the city lights blurring past. My pulse was still pounding as I replayed Bernard’s words in my head.
“I wasn’t the one who signed his death warrant.”
If it wasn’t Bernard… then who?
- Writer
