Chapter 3 - TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS EVERY FRIDAY
Clara received her first payment at midnight.
Leo handed her a thick envelope.
Inside were ten thousand dollars.
Cash.
She stared at it.
Then looked up.
“Why cash?”
Leo's expression remained neutral.
“Mr. Mercer's instructions.”
Clara frowned.
“I need documented income.”
Leo looked surprised.
“For taxes?”
“For everything.”
She held out the envelope.
“I want a contract, payroll records, and lawful payment arrangements.”
Leo stared.
“You're refusing ten thousand dollars?”
“I'm refusing a mystery.”
He studied her.
Then nodded.
“I'll speak to Mr. Mercer.”
Clara returned to Liam's room.
He was recovering from surgery.
Pale.
Exhausted.
But alive.
He watched her approach.
“Leo tells me you don't like money.”
“I love money.”
His mouth twitched.
“Then what's the problem?”
“I don't want it delivered like ransom.”
Liam stared.
Then laughed.
It was a rough sound.
Painful.
But genuine.
Clara smiled despite herself.
He shook his head.
“Fine. Legal payroll. Whatever you want.”
“Good.”
He studied her.
“Why do you need it so badly?”
Clara's smile vanished.
For a moment, she considered lying.
Then she looked at him.
“My brother.”
Liam went still.
“How old?”
“Seventeen.”
“What's wrong with him?”
She swallowed.
“Leukemia.”
Liam's expression changed.
Clara continued.
“His treatment is expensive. We're trying to get him into a clinical program, but there are costs we can't cover.”
Liam looked at her.
“And you're doing this alone?”
She nodded.
“Mostly.”
He was silent.
Then asked, “What's his name?”
“Tommy.”
Liam repeated it softly.
“Tommy.”
Clara looked away.
“Don't pity me.”
His voice changed.
“I wasn't going to.”
She met his eyes.
Liam looked toward the window.
Then whispered, “I had a brother once.”
Clara froze.
“Had?”
Liam's expression closed.
May you like
“He's dead.”
And for the first time, Clara saw grief beneath the anger.
