Chapter 4
The Security Manager did not speak immediately. He simply tapped the screen of the tablet and turned it so that the two approaching bodyguards, Clive, and the surrounding guests could clearly see the high-definition playback.
The video on the screen was crystal clear, devoid of any yellow tint, utilizing the venue’s state-of-the-art surveillance system. It showed the very banquet table they were standing beside, recorded just fifteen minutes prior to the dinner. The footage clearly showed Clive Bellcroft, alone in the room, crouching down and deliberately planting the diamond-encrusted gold watch beneath Lachlan’s heavy mahogany chair.
The undeniable proof of the setup played on an endless, damning loop.
Both bodyguards stopped dead in their tracks. Their hands froze inside their jackets. They looked at the tablet, then looked at Clive. The shifting power dynamic in the room was palpable. They were paid to protect Clive, but they were not paid to commit treason against the sitting boss of the syndicate on a fabricated charge. Slowly, deliberately, both men pulled their empty hands out of their suits and stepped backward, abandoning Clive entirely.
Lachlan stood perfectly still, his arm still wrapped tightly around Annalise’s waist. He slowly turned his head, his dark, swept-back hair catching the bright light, and looked toward his older cousin.
Clive stared at the tablet, his mouth hanging open. The arrogant, mocking triumph that had fueled him moments ago vanished completely. His anger drained away, replaced by a cold, absolute fear. He looked at the bodyguards who had abandoned him, and then up into Lachlan’s terrifying, calm eyes.
Annalise stayed close beside Lachlan, her small hand still gently supporting his arm. She felt the heavy, rhythmic pounding of his heart against her side.
“Did you honestly believe the cameras in this estate were installed merely for decoration, Clive?” Lachlan asked, his deep, measured voice echoing in the silent ballroom.
Clive swallowed hard, his expensive tuxedo suddenly looking pathetic on his trembling frame. “Lachlan... I... it was a joke. A prank for the rehearsal dinner. You have to believe me.”
“Do you think I am foolish enough to confuse a poorly executed coup with a prank?” Lachlan countered, taking a slow, predatory step forward, bringing Annalise with him.
The sixty guests murmured nervously, inching further away from the impending violence.
“He forced me into it!” Clive shouted suddenly, pointing wildly at the Security Manager. “He altered the footage! They’re working together to frame me!”
The Security Manager lowered the tablet, his expression utterly blank. “Sir, the raw files are already uploading to the syndicate's secure servers. The timestamp is verified.”
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Lachlan stopped just a few feet away from his trembling cousin. The family signet ring on his hand caught the light as he adjusted his cuffs.
“Are you prepared to face the consequences of treason, Clive, or will you continue to embarrass yourself in front of my guests?” Lachlan asked softly.
