Chapter 157 THE RECKONING

Chapter 157 THE RECKONING


~CLAIRE'S POV~

Friday. Day five.

I stared at the ceiling, listening to Alexander's deep, even breathing beside me. He was fast asleep, his arm draped heavily across my waist.

My phone buzzed silently on the nightstand. 

The screen lit up the dark room.

Richard: 'Time is up. I'm parked at the corner. Come down, or the files go to the FBI in five minutes.'

My stomach twisted into a cold, hard knot.

I carefully lifted Alexander's arm, holding my breath as he stirred, then settled back into the pillows. I slipped out of bed and pulled on jeans and a dark sweater.

I didn't want to leave. But if Richard leaked those files, Alexander would lose everything. He would go to a federal prison, and my baby would grow up visiting him behind glass. 

I had to negotiate. 

I had to beg if I had to. 

I just needed to buy us time.

I snuck out of the penthouse, bypassing the sleeping security guard, and hurried out into the chilly morning air.

Richard's black sedan was idling at the end of the block.

I opened the passenger door and climbed in.

"Give me the files, Richard," I said immediately. "I will do whatever you want. Just hand over the evidence against Alexander."

Richard didn't answer. He didn't even look at me.

He was staring straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. He was practically vibrating. The air in the car felt stuffy, buzzing with a dark, unstable energy that made my skin crawl.

"Richard?" I asked, my voice wavering.

Ping.

His phone chimed in the cup holder. He snatched it up, his eyes scanning the screen. 

A slow, manic smile stretched across his face.

"She's in position," he whispered to himself.

He dropped the phone and slammed his hand on the console.

Click. The doors locked.

He slammed his foot on the gas, and the car shot forward, throwing me back into the seat.

"What are you doing?!" I shouted, grabbing the door handle. It wouldn't budge. "Unlock the door, Richard!"

"We have an appointment, Claire," he said, merging recklessly onto the highway.

"Where are we going? I said I would come back to you! Just give me the files!"

"The files don't matter right now," he snapped, his eyes wild in the rearview mirror. "Words don't matter. I told you I loved you, and you didn't believe me. I have to show you."

"Show me what?" I gripped the dashboard as he swerved around a truck. "Richard, slow down! You're going to kill us!"

"I'm going to save us," he corrected, his voice dropping to an eerie, dead calm.

I stared at him. He was completely unhinged. The broken, crying man from the park was gone. In his place was a fanatic.

"What did that text say?" I demanded. "Who is in position?"

Richard smiled again. It was a terrifying, hollow look.

"Monica."

My blood ran cold. "Monica? Why are we going to Monica?"

"Because she ruined everything," he said smoothly. "She poisoned my mind. She stole my company. She made me throw away the only good thing I ever had." He reached over and stroked my cheek.

I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!"

He just laughed. "You're angry. I get it. But you'll understand soon. You need to be there, Claire. You need to witness it."

"Witness what?" I asked, panic clawing at my throat.

"The cleanse," he said. "I'm going to cut the cancer out of our lives."

"Richard, stop the car."

"No. You need to see that I've changed. You need to see how far I'm willing to go for you." He sped up, the speedometer creeping past eighty. "If I just handed you those files, you would take them and run back to Alexander. But if we share this... if we do this together... you will know my devotion is real."

"What are you talking about?" I screamed. "Do what together?!"

He reached into his jacket. He pulled out the heavy, silver revolver and set it on the center console between us.

The metal glinted in the morning light.

I stopped breathing.

"A blood sacrifice," Richard whispered, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "To wipe the slate clean."

"You're going to kill her," I choked out, horror paralyzing my limbs. "You're driving us to murder her."

"I am executing a traitor," he corrected sharply. "And once she's gone, we can finally start over. Just you and me."

I stared at the gun. I stared at the man I had once married. He wasn't just delusional anymore. He was a murderer looking for an audience.

"You're insane," I breathed.

"I'm devoted," Richard smiled, tapping the steering wheel. "Now sit back, Claire. It's time to take out the trash."