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THE TASTE OF SHATTERED GLASS / Chapter 9 / 15

Chapter 9 - Vanishing Shadows

""What do you mean he didn't wait?"" Clara asked, the room suddenly feeling five degrees colder.

The federal agent lowered the desk phone, his jaw tight. ""The patrol car arrived at the 5th Avenue penthouse four minutes ago. The balcony ties were sliced through from the outside. Marcus is gone, and so is the hard drive he took from the warehouse.""

Julian, pinned against the mahogany desk, let out a ragged, frantic bark of laughter. ""You think you won, Clara? You think pinning some tax fraud on me saves you? Marcus doesn't work for me. He never worked for me!""

Evelyn bowed her head, refusing to look at either of them, her hands trembling uncontrollably in her lap.

Clara turned to the elder woman, her eyes narrowing. ""Who does he work for, Evelyn?""

The older woman stayed silent, her aristocratic mask completely shattered, revealing a terrified, broken matriarch who knew a truth far worse than federal prison.

""Mrs. St. Clair, we need you to come into protective custody immediately,"" the lead agent said, stepping between Clara and the window. ""If Marcus is loose and the offshore syndicate realizes the money trail was intercepted, this building is no longer secure.""

Sirens wailed in the distance below, echoing off the Manhattan skyscrapers. Clara stood motionless as two other agents escorted a cursing, struggling Julian out into the hall. He glared back at her, shouting obscenities that were swallowed by the sterile corridor.

Clara looked down at the tablet on the desk. The warehouse live feed had abruptly switched to static.

One by one, the surveillance feeds across St. Clair properties went dark.

""Agent,"" Clara said, pointing at the dying screens. ""They’re cutting the feeds. This wasn't a standard cover-up. Marcus isn't running away—he’s clearing the evidence from the source.""

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A sharp pop echoed from the street level below, followed by the deep, shuddering roar of an explosion that shook the entire 45-story tower. The overhead lights flickered violently and died, plunging the executive office into pitch-black shadow.

The only light came from the city beyond the shattered glass—and the red laser dot dancing steadily across the center of Clara’s chest.

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