Chapter 4 - Shadows of Brooklyn
Two weeks passed like a dream inside the glass tower.
Under Briar’s constant care, Titan transformed. His dull grey coat regained its glossy sheen, his hollow flanks filled out with lean muscle, and his tail wagged whenever Briar entered the room. Every afternoon, Briar walked him through the private gardens on the penthouse roof, laughing as the massive beast trotted beside her like a giant puppy.
And slowly, the frost around Damien Ashworth began to melt.
He no longer stayed in his study all night. He began joining Briar for dinner at the long oak table, listening quietly as she talked about her love for animals, her eyes lighting up with a gentle warmth that made Damien’s hardened heart beat faster. In turn, he showed her his private art collection, speaking with rare, quiet passion about the things he loved.
But safety in New York was an illusion.
On a rainy Thursday afternoon, while Damien was downstairs at a board meeting, Briar received a plain brown package delivered to the penthouse front desk.
She opened it in her room, expecting specialized veterinary supplies. Inside lay a single, crumpled photograph.
It was a picture of her taken through the glass window of the penthouse roof garden just yesterday. On the back, written in thick, jagged red ink, were words that made her blood run ice cold:
Found you, little bird. Three years isn't long enough to hide. Pay me 500k or your new mafia boyfriend finds out what you did in Chicago. - Corbin.
Briar dropped the photo, her hand covering her mouth as a ragged sob tore from her throat.
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Corbin. The man who had locked her in a basement for two years. The man whose shoulder she had shot with an antique pistol before jumping out a second-story window to escape into the night.
If Corbin was in New York, he wouldn't just take her money. He would drag her back to the dark. And if he told Damien that she was a fugitive wanted for attempted murder in Illinois, Damien would throw her out into the street.
