Chapter 8: Returning to the Lion's Den
The drive back to the estate felt entirely different than the trip out. The storm had cleared, leaving behind a sharp, freezing mist that clung to the dark windshield as Julian navigated the winding private roads leading up to the iron gates. In the back seat, curled up on a folded horse blanket I had found in the mudroom before we left, Max let out a soft, contented sigh, his breathing deep and steady for the first time all evening.
Julian drove in silence, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked rhythmically near his beard. The black leather ledger sat on the center console between us, its pages marked with sticky notes and highlighted amounts that detailed a systematic network of payoffs, quiet favors, and fabricated veterinary reports spanning over three years. Victoria hadn't just gotten rid of a dog she disliked; she had built an entire ecosystem of compliance using his money and his name.
"She's going to be waiting in the study," I murmured, watching the sprawling stone facade of the mansion loom into view through the trees, its grand windows glowing with warm, mocking light. "She always sits by the fireplace after a dinner party wraps up, reviewing the accounts."
Julian glanced over at me, his expression softening slightly as the headlights illuminated the tired lines around my eyes. "Are you sure you want to go back inside with me, Clara? You could stay in the guesthouse tonight. I can handle Victoria on my own."
"No," I said, my voice firm despite the knot of dread tightening in my stomach. "I’m the one she fired in front of all her high-society friends. I want to see the look on her face when she realizes her money couldn't buy her way out of this."
Julian gave a slow, grim nod, pulling the SUV smoothly to a halt in front of the massive double front doors. He cut the engine, and for a long moment, the only sound was the distant drip of melting ice from the copper gutters above. We got out together. Julian opened the rear hatch to check on Max, who lifted his head, thumped his tail twice against the blanket, and let out a low, healthy huff before settling back down.
May you like
"Stay here, old boy," Julian whispered, scratching the dog behind the ears. "We'll be right back."
The heavy oak front doors unlocked from the inside before we even reached the top stone step, pushed open by a panicked-looking estate manager who took one look at Julian’s face and immediately stepped aside into the shadows.
