Chapter 7

Christina parked her sedan at the end of the long, cobblestone driveway of the Clark Estate.

She took a deep breath, adjusting the collar of her trench coat. She pressed the doorbell.

The chimes echoed through the massive house. The door opened, and Miller the butler stood there. He gave her a brief, sympathetic nod and stepped aside. "This way, Ms. Woods."

As they walked down the grand foyer, the sound of screaming reached her ears.

Christina stepped into the opulent living room. Burke was standing over Brielle, who was sprawled on the sofa, crying dramatically.

"I am not giving it back!" Brielle wailed. "You can't make me!"

The argument died the moment they saw Christina. Brielle sat up, wiping her eyes, and glared at her. "You greedy witch. You actually came to our house to beg?"

Christina ignored her completely. She looked at Burke. "My pendant. Now."

Burke opened his mouth to speak, but a heavy, rhythmic thudding interrupted him.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Everyone turned to see General Harrison Clark descending the main staircase. He leaned heavily on a wooden cane, his face a mask of thunder. A home nurse hovered behind him.

"Is this the circus you're running in my house?" the General bellowed, his voice echoing off the marble floors.

Burke snapped to attention, his spine stiffening. "Sir, this is a private matter. I am handling it."

The General's cold eyes shifted to Christina. "A Woods girl, breaking off an engagement? Are you trying to humiliate this family?"

Christina stood her ground. She met the old man's gaze without flinching. "General, this is between me and Major Clark. And a stolen piece of property."

The General's eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face at her steel. Then his anger redirected. "If it's over, it's over! Clean. We don't cling to trash. And we certainly don't steal trash!"

Brielle saw an opening. "See, Daddy? It's just a piece of junk, she shouldn't even-"

The General slammed his cane onto the floor. The crack was like a gunshot. "Shut up! Brielle, give it to her!"

Brielle froze, her mouth hanging open. "Daddy, it's mine-"

"It belongs to someone else!" the General roared. "The Clarks don't steal! We don't wear other people's scraps like beggars! Do you want the whole base to know my daughter is a thief?"

Tears spilled down Brielle's cheeks. She shot a venomous look at Christina, then fled up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door.

Burke moved to follow, but the General's hand shot out, grabbing his arm. "Let her pout. Fix this mess."

The living room fell into a suffocating silence. Christina felt a grim satisfaction, but her face remained a blank slate.

The General turned his glare on her. "Take your things. And get out."

Christina gave a curt nod. "Thank you, General."

Burke stood there, looking utterly defeated. He signaled to Miller with a sharp jerk of his head.

A minute later, the butler returned carrying a small velvet box. He handed it to Burke.

Burke opened the lid. The silver pendant sat nestled in the faded velvet.

Christina's breath hitched. Her eyes locked onto the metal. There, on the surface, were three deep, fresh scratches across the intricate grooves. Her heart twisted in her chest.

Burke held out the box, his face hard. "Take it. And never come back here."

Christina reached out. Her fingertips brushed the cold metal. A jolt, like a static shock, raced up her arm. She snapped the box shut and slipped it into the deep pocket of her trench coat. She didn't look at it. She didn't check it. Not here. Not in front of them.

She turned on her heel and walked out the front door. Behind her, she heard the General start to berate Burke, the sound muffled as the heavy oak door closed.

She slid into the driver's seat of her car and locked the doors. Her hands were shaking. She needed to know. She needed to see the damage.

She started the engine and sped down the driveway, the estate shrinking in the rearview mirror. The cage was behind her. The real fight was just beginning.