Chapter 5: The Snake at the Table

​Clara

The west wing library resembled a scene from a horror novel, with its dark, rustic oak paneling, floor-to-ceiling leather-bound books, and a roaring oak marble fireplace, which did not help warm up the room.

I was sitting at a small side table, tablet at my fingertips, pen ready to go at a leather pad. Richard Vane was seated at the mahogany table. He was a man in his late fifties, with soft blue eyes, slicked-back silver hair and a predatory smile on his lips that never reached his eyes.

Perfectly composed and at the head of the table, there sat Sebastian, as a waiter poured a vintage Cabernet. He didn't give any indication of tension if he had had it from our hour in the rain. The man was a vault.

Sebastian looked at him, surprised. “I must say, Vane, I was surprised when you agreed to this acquisition structure; Thorne Enterprises usually likes to have total control, taking on our syndicate as minority stakeholders seems out of character.”

Sebastian replied coolly, raising his glass, "Times change, Richard. Strategic alignment is more important than ownership in new European markets.

Or maybe you are growing too quickly and need liquidity," Vane replied, his eyes narrowing in on her. “Aggressive these last several years, even desperate to build an empire quickly to show something.”

My eyes scanned my tablet, taking notes, but my heart pounded in my chest. Malice swirled about in the room like smoke. It was not a business dinner, it was an interrogation in the guise of a dinner.

Then Vane turned his hard, cold eyes straight onto me.

But who is this pretty member of the staff? Vane leered, leaning back. I don't remember seeing her on Manhattan headquarters.

​"Clara Mercer. An executive assistant," Sebastian said, as though he didn't have to turn his head. She takes care of all my operations.

Vane's lips moved slowly, sadly, and poisonously in a smile. “Sebastian, remember when my intelligence people did a background check on a young girl in Boston with the same name about seven or eight years ago, who was at Boston University?”

​My blood ran cold. I couldn't breathe because I was so stunned. BU? It was here that Julian and I met.

I held my hands as stiff as a board on the table, not to flinch at him.

​Sebastian didn't bat an eye. He cut a portion of steak, chewed slowly and used a linen napkin to dab his mouth. My assistant's background is clean, Richard. I don't hire people on a whim or due to old times.

Vane rapped his paws against the table, his eyes on me like a hawk watching a mouse: "Of course not! It was just... the young man who we tracked back then went by another name... a ghost. He was just as clever as he was to vanish right after graduation just leaving the poor girl behind.

The pieces of my brain jangled rudely.

​Leverage.

My thoughts went back seven years. This is the strange cars outside my dorm. An urgent sense of someone looking over your shoulder. The sudden and painful withdrawal of Julian from the world just before he graduating from school without any explanation.

He didn't lose his love for me, It's because of these monsters who were watching me that I left. It just wasn't safe to keep me alive; it would make a target on my back.

I raised my head, and with no wobble confronted Vane's chilling eyes.

So, Mr. Vane, "If you've got no more ghost stories to play, I've three amendments to your contract for you to sign before the meeting tomorrow morning, and I'm quite venomous about this one, too.

Vane was momentarily startled by my sharp composure, so he blinked. Then a slow, sinister chuckle came out of his throat.

​"Feisty," Vane murmured. “You have made a good choice, Sebastian.”

He stood up and dropped his napkin and said coldly, “She does her job. “And so dinner is over. Ms. Mercer, pass the revised terms along to Mr. Vane's team and good night, Richard.”

Silently we left the library and walked side by side down the long dark hall towards the guest rooms. When we turned into the private wing, where there were no security cameras, I grabbed his arm and dragged Sebastian to an alcove.

​He didn't resist. He went into the shadows, but his eyes were wide when I got close.

He was talking about us," I whispered, furious, shocked, and stunned. “It was because he was watching you during your college days, wasn't it?” You didn't run away from me Julian, you ran away to protect me.

​Sebastian froze. The cold and ruthless CEO mask broke and shattered, only the haunted and desperate boy who broke my heart to save my life remained.

“Clara…,” he choked out, his hand instinctively reaching up and gently touching my cheek, his eyes burning with years of unspoken pain. "You were never supposed to know."