Clause Seven

*Chapter 7

The sirens were getting closer.

Jennifer stared at the photo on her phone—David in the safe room doorway, gun in hand, jaw set like he was ready to burn the building down to keep her safe.

Below it, the message glowed: _Your contract ends tonight. Clause 7 is in effect._

“Do you think I have?” she’d asked him.

David hadn’t answered.

Now he was moving, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the hidden stairwell behind the safe room.

“Second shooter is on floor 41,” he said into his earpiece. “Seal the elevators. Get Ms. Benz to the roof.”

Jennifer yanked her arm free. “I’m not running to the roof while you stay here and play hero.”

“You don’t have a choice,” David said. “Clause 7 isn’t just about money. If you fall for me, the board can claim the marriage was fraudulent from the start. They can void the partnership restoration. Ravenna gets the company back.”

Jennifer stopped cold.

“So this is about the company,” she said. “It always was.”

David’s eyes flashed. “No. If it was only about the company, I would’ve let you walk out of that station. I would’ve let Harry ruin you.”

He stepped closer, voice low. “I didn’t. Because I need you alive. And right now, alive means moving.”

Jennifer hated that he was right.

She followed him into the stairwell. Cold concrete, echoing footsteps.

Two floors down, a gunshot echoed up from below.

“Move,” David said.

They hit the roof door at the same time as the building’s emergency lights kicked on.

The helicopter was already waiting. Loriss Corp’s logo on the side, rotors spinning.

“Get in,” David said, shielding her as wind tore at her hair.

Jennifer climbed in, but before David could follow, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and his face went pale.

“Go,” he told the pilot. “Now.”

The helicopter lifted off as David stayed on the roof, phone pressed to his ear.

Jennifer watched through the window as he said something sharp, then hung up and turned back toward the stairwell.

“David!” she shouted, but the noise swallowed her voice.

The pilot pulled on his headset. “Mr. Loriss said to take you to the safe house. He’ll meet us there.”

Jennifer didn’t sit down. She pressed her forehead to the glass, watching the penthouse shrink below.

Her phone buzzed again.

Unknown number.

Photo attached.

It was David, on the roof, being pulled back inside by two men in suits. Not security. Police.

Caption: _Arrested for obstruction. Your contract is void. See you in court, Jennifer._

Her stomach dropped.

---

The safe house was a concrete bunker outside the city, run by David’s private security team.

Ms. Okoro was waiting when Jennifer landed.

“We filed for an emergency hearing,” Ms. Okoro said, walking fast down the hallway. “But if David’s arrested, the board can suspend his authority. They’ll freeze the assets.”

Jennifer clutched the USB drive in her pocket.

“Then we use this,” she said.

Ms. Okoro stopped walking.

“You haven’t looked at it, have you?” she asked.

Jennifer shook her head.

“Good,” Ms. Okoro said. “Because if you do, you become a witness. And witnesses in this case don’t live long.”

Jennifer’s blood ran cold. “You knew?”

“I suspected,” Ms. Okoro said. “That’s why I told David to keep you out of the east wing. He didn’t listen.”

Jennifer wanted to be angry. But all she felt was tired.

“What happens now?” she asked.

“Now, we wait,” Ms. Okoro said. “And we hope David gets bail before the board votes.”

Jennifer didn’t wait.

She went to the safe house’s small office, locked the door, and plugged the USB into the encrypted laptop Ms. Okoro had given her.

Files opened. Hundreds of them.

Emails. Bank transfers. Phone records.

And one video file.

Jennifer clicked it.

Her father’s face filled the screen. He looked older, tired.

“If you’re watching this, it means they got to us,” he said. “Jennifer, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner.”

Jennifer sat forward, tears stinging her eyes.

“The partnership with Loriss Corp was real,” her father continued. “But two weeks before we died, we found out Robert Loriss had been siphoning funds through a shell company. We confronted him. He agreed to fix it. Then he didn’t.”

The video cut to a document. A wire transfer for £20 million. Sender: Benz Holdings. Receiver: Argent Holdings.

Date: One week before the accident.

Jennifer’s breath caught.

Argent Holdings. Harry’s family company.

Her father’s voice came back.

“If anything happens to us, take this to David Loriss. He’s the only one who didn’t know. He’ll finish it.”

The video ended.

Jennifer sat there, shaking.

Harry’s family had taken the money. Harry had known.

And David had been trying to protect her from it.

The door opened.

David stood there, suit rumpled, tie gone, a cut above his eyebrow.

“You weren’t supposed to watch that,” he said.

Jennifer stood up, holding the laptop so he could see the screen.

“Harry’s family took £20 million from my father,” she said. “And you knew.”

David stepped inside and closed the door.

“I knew Robert Loriss was corrupt,” he said. “I didn’t know it was Harry’s family until last night. When the shooter’s phone pinged a number registered to Argent Holdings.”

Jennifer stared at him.

“So you used me,” she said. “You used the contract to get close to me, to get the evidence.”

David’s jaw tightened.

“Yes,” he said. “At first.”

Jennifer waited.

“But not anymore,” he said quietly. “Jennifer, if this was only about the company, I would’ve handed the drive to the police and let them handle it. I didn’t. Because the moment I saw you in that gala, with Carmilla trying to break you and you standing taller—”

He stopped himself.

“Clause 7,” Jennifer said softly.

David nodded.

“If you fall for me, the contract is void,” he said. “You lose the money. You lose the company. You lose everything we’ve been fighting for.”

Jennifer walked to him.

“And if I don’t?” she asked.

“Then I lose you,” David said.

The words hung between them, heavy and final.

Jennifer thought of the photo on her phone. Of him staying behind while she flew away. Of him taking a punch for a man who’d tried to kill her.

She thought of Clause 7.

Then she deleted the message.

“We don’t have time for this,” she said. “Harry knows I have the drive. He’ll come for me next.”

David’s eyes searched hers.

“And what about us?” he asked.

Jennifer looked at the USB in her hand.

“Us can wait,” she said. “But only if we survive tonight.”

David nodded.

He pulled out his phone and made a call.

“Prep the jet,” he said. “We’re going to Geneva.”

Jennifer frowned. “Geneva?”

“The only place the evidence is admissible without Argent’s political influence,” David said. “And the only place I know we can keep you safe for 48 hours.”

Jennifer pocketed the drive.

“Then let’s go,” she said.

As they left the office, Jennifer’s phone buzzed one last time.

New message. No photo.

Just three words:

_It’s over, Jennifer._

She showed it to David.

He didn’t stop walking.

“It’s not over,” he said. “Not until you say it is.”

Outside, two cars waited. Engines running.

David opened the passenger door for her.

Jennifer got in.

But before she closed the door, she looked at him.

“David,” she said.

He paused.

“If we make it through this,” she said, “we’re talking about Clause 7.”

David’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile.

“Deal,” he said.

The car pulled out onto the dark road.

Behind them, the safe house lights flickered once.

Then went dark.