Chapter 29 - The Golden Gallows
The crystal chandeliers of the Plaza ballroom hummed with artificial grandeur.
Waiters in silver masks moved through the crowd of billionaires, politicians, and syndicate fixers, carrying flutes of champagne.
None of them noticed the tension rippling through the security perimeter at the service entrances.
Arthur slipped through the pantry corridor, wearing the tuxedo he had taken from the penthouse closet, his face concealed behind an iron-filigree mask.
Beneath the tailored wool jacket rested a suppressed automatic pistol and two flashbang grenades.
On the auction stage, an elderly man with a monocle was speaking into a gilded microphone.
"Lot forty-seven," the auctioneer declared, his voice smooth and detached. "The developmental deeds to the Lower Manhattan waterfront. Opening bid, four hundred million."
A murmur of bids rose from the masked crowd.
Arthur scanned the mezzanine balconies, his eyes cutting through the velvet shadows.
There, leaning against the gilded railing on the second tier, was Clara.
She wore a gown of midnight blue, backless and immaculate, holding a glass of champagne in her gloved hand.
Around her neck hung the Star of Antwerp—the legendary diamond that had disappeared from the Hawthorne vault twenty years ago.
Arthur took the service stairs three at a time, moving silently behind the heavy velvet drapes.
As he reached the landing, two private guards turned toward him, reaching beneath their jackets.
Arthur didn't hesitate.
He lunged forward, slamming the first guard’s head into the marble balustrade before driving his elbow into the second man’s throat.
Both collapsed into the shadows without a sound.
Arthur stepped onto the mezzanine, his hand resting on the grip of his concealed firearm.
Clara didn't flinch as his shadow fell over her.
She took a slow sip of champagne, looking down at the bidding floor below.
"You look very handsome in that suit, Arthur," she said, her voice teasing and intimate. "Just like our wedding night."
"The auction is over, Clara," Arthur said, stepping within two feet of her back.
"The auction hasn't even begun, my love," she replied, turning slowly to face him.
Her eyes were clear, bright, and utterly terrifying in their composure.
"You think you're stopping a crime," she whispered, touching the cold stone of the diamond at her throat.
"I'm executing a sentence."
Arthur drew his weapon, holding it concealed beneath the folds of his coat, the barrel aligned with her ribs.
"Walk away with me right now," Arthur said through clenched teeth. "Before the tactical units breach the building."
Clara stepped closer, pressing her body against the hidden muzzle of his gun.
"Do you really think I brought you here to kill me, Arthur?" she breathed, her perfume filling his senses with memories of a life that never existed.
"Why then?" Arthur demanded, his finger resting on the cold steel of the trigger.
"To give you a choice," she said, her smile fading into something profoundly tragic.
May you like
She reached behind her neck, unhooking the heavy diamond necklace.
Inside the platinum casing of the pendant was a tiny, glowing red LED.
