Chapter 96 Thrilling Scene

Chapter 96 Thrilling Scene

"Better to take a gamble than let Henry and Sophia keep you under their heel." Susan's voice was barely above a whisper. "You must have heard. Sophia is digging into the Black Ice Project. If that project sees daylight, the entire Caldwell family goes down with it."

Oscar's pupils tightened.

The Black Ice Project was his ace in the hole. How the hell did Susan know?

"You've been looking into me?"

"Right back at you." Susan's smile was slow and feline, predatory in its ease. "Your father's death wasn't clean. Someone in John's old circle knows the truth, don't they?"

Footsteps echoed in the hall. Thomas.

Oscar's expression softened in an instant. He plucked a grape from the stem and held it to Susan's lips.

"Try this. Sweet."

She took it between her teeth, biting down just enough for her lips to brush his fingers. The touch was intimate, dangerous.

When Thomas stepped inside, they were already standing apart, speaking with polite detachment.

Meanwhile, Edward slid a stack of photographs across Henry's desk. Outside, rain hammered W City in sheets.

In the photos, Oscar carried a fruit basket into the hospital, chatting with Susan like old friends.

"Mr. Henry Caldwell, Mr. Oscar Caldwell has been to the hospital seven times in the last two weeks," Edward said quietly. "We also caught him on calls with an overseas number. Background noise sounded like a dockside warehouse."

Henry picked up one photo, his fingertip brushing over Susan's face.

She was playing both sides—stringing Thomas along while working with Oscar. Smarter than that fool of a brother.

"What about Aurelian Oak Estate?"

"We found the caretaker from back then," Edward replied. "He said Mr. John Caldwell used to visit often thirty years ago. Always brought a black leather case."

Edward handed over a statement.

"The case had a clasp with a frost-crack pattern. Same as the one in your study."

Henry's hand stilled. He'd seen that case before, locked in his father's safe. He'd thought it was just an antique. He'd been wrong.

"And Sophia?"

"Miss Bennett says she's decoding Mr. John Caldwell's old letters. A few ciphers need your fingerprints to open."

Henry rose from his chair. "Then tonight, we go straight from the airport to Aurelian Oak Estate."

The estate lay hidden deep in a bamboo grove on the edge of the city. Moss slicked the stone path.

Sophia pushed open the gate. Rust and damp hit her in the face.

"Watch your step."

Henry arrived at the same moment, steadying her with a hand on her arm. The warmth bled through her sleeve, grounding her.

Dust lay thick in the living room. Cobwebs swayed in the beams overhead.

Henry's flashlight swept the walls and stopped on a painting.

"This one."

Sophia stepped closer, running her fingers along the frame. "There's a hidden compartment here."

Henry moved to help, but a sharp crack of tile came from above.

He yanked Sophia behind him just as a shadow dropped from the rafters, a short blade flashing in the beam.

"Move!"

Sophia twisted away, instincts kicking in. She caught the attacker's wrist, drove her other hand into his shoulder, and wrenched hard.

A sharp crack. The man's arm bent at an unnatural angle, the blade clattering to the floor.

Before he could recover, she drove her knee into his gut and slammed an elbow into the back of his neck.

He grunted, staggered, and bolted into the dark.

The fight had lasted barely ten seconds.

"You hurt?" Henry took her wrist, his thumb brushing over the reddened skin.

"I'm fine. Forget him." She pulled free, heat rising in her cheeks. "Let's see what's inside."

Henry pried open the compartment. A black leather case sat inside, its clasp patterned with frost-like cracks.

"Your fingerprint," Sophia said.

He pressed his thumb to the clasp. The lock clicked open.

Inside were a stack of yellowed letters and a thick ledger filled with dense transaction records.

"This is it. Proof of the Black Ice Project," Sophia said, flipping through the pages. "The shipment's in Warehouse Three."

Henry leaned in to see, close enough to catch the faint scent of gardenia in her hair, laced with rain. His pulse skipped.

Without thinking, he brushed a loose strand behind her ear, his fingers grazing her skin.

Sophia froze, color flooding her face. The ice in her gaze had melted into something deeper, darker.

"We should go," she said quickly, lifting the case and heading for the door.

Henry watched her retreat, the corner of his mouth curling. For the first time, she wasn't hiding behind her armor.

He caught up, taking her wrist again. "The rain's too heavy. Let me."

She started to refuse, but he pulled her close without giving her the chance.

The mossy stones were slick; more than once she nearly slipped, and each time his grip steadied her. His hand was warm, firm, as if he could shield her from more than just the rain.

In the heart of the bamboo grove, her foot slid out from under her. She fell into his chest, hard muscle and the faint scent of cedar filling her senses.

His arm locked around her waist. His thumb traced the curve there, his voice low and rough. "Careful."

Sophia pushed away, face burning. "Thanks."

Rain drummed overhead. Their footsteps echoed in the quiet grove.

Henry looked at her, and something fierce stirred in him. He wanted to protect her. To keep her like this—alive, unguarded.

He caught her hand again.

This time, she didn't pull away.

Their fingertips brushed, a spark of warmth in the frozen rain.

Perhaps this thing between them — born of the Black Ice Project — had already, without either of them noticing, become something else entirely.