Chapter 6 - THE MIDNIGHT REHEARSAL
“No!” I cried out, tears of genuine shock and indignation stinging the corners of my eyes. “No! My father died when I was nine years old, Mr. Corsini! He died in a charity hospital flat broke, clutching a box of old blueprints he said nobody would ever let him publish! He didn't send me anywhere—I came here because my credit score was five hundred and fifty, my health insurance was canceled, and I needed to pay off thirty thousand dollars in medical debt before the collection agency seized my car!”
Julian stared at me, searching my face for any sign of deception, any flicker of a lie.
The silence stretched between us on the wooden ladder, ticking away like a time bomb.
Slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased. The iron grip on my wrist relaxed into a warm, lingering touch.
“I believe you,” Julian murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. He let go of my hand and stepped back down one rung of the ladder. “A liar’s pulse spikes when their cover is blown. Yours just sounded like a trapped rabbit.”
“I’m not a rabbit,” I muttered, wiping angrily at a stray tear that had escaped my eye. “I’m an exhausted woman who just wants to dust her shelves in peace without being accused of an international conspiracy.”
A faint, ghost-like smile touched Julian’s lips—the second genuine smile I had ever seen on him.
“Finish dusting the library, Sadie,” he said quietly, stepping down to the Persian rug below. “And leave the bracelet in the box. Martin is setting a trap tonight. Whoever has been entering this house is going to make a mistake.”
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“A trap?” I asked, looking down from the ladder.
“Yes,” Julian said, walking toward the heavy oak doors without looking back. “And I suggest you stay locked in your apartment over the garage. It’s going to get loud.”
