Chapter 4 - The Infiltration
The annual Heritage Society Gala was held at the Portland Museum of History—a grand, marble-columned building filled with the city's elite. It was also the perfect place for Alastair Thorne to showcase his power.
Claire walked into the grand ballroom wearing a simple, elegant dark emerald gown. Beside her, Daniel looked striking in a tailored black tuxedo. They weren't there to socialize; they were there to corner a monster.
"Ah, the miraculous Claire Whitman," a smooth, cultured voice sounded from behind them.
They turned to face Alastair Thorne. He was an older man with silver hair, impeccable posture, and eyes as cold and calculating as a winter frost.
"Mr. Thorne," Claire said, her voice steady and clear. "I see you’re still attending public events. I would have thought you’d be busy preparing for the federal audit of your shipping yard acquisitions."
Thorne’s smile didn't reach his eyes. "Audits come and go, my dear. But structures... structures are fragile. A single weak pillar, a loose wire, a spark... and everything you’ve built can turn to dust. I hear Whitman Safeguard is taking on very risky preservation work. It would be a shame if your firm’s reputation suffered a catastrophic collapse."
"Is that a threat, Alastair?" Daniel asked, stepping slightly in front of Claire.
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"Just a friendly observation from an old family friend," Thorne sneered. He leaned in closer to Claire, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Your mother sends her regards, Claire. She told me to tell you that some fires are meant to burn forever."
As Thorne walked away into the crowd, Claire clutched her purse, where the micro-thin map was hidden. "He knows we have the key, Daniel. The clock is ticking."
