Chapter 3: The Security Chief’s Betrayal

Chapter 3: The Security Chief’s Betrayal
Before Nathan could brush her hand away, the heavy double doors of the dining room violently swung open. Marcus, the towering head of estate security, stepped into the room. His tactical suit was drenched from the pouring rain outside, leaving puddles on the marble floor. His hand rested casually on his holstered sidearm, his face an unreadable mask of scarred muscle.
“Estate is sealed, Mr. Whitmore,” Marcus rumbled, his deep voice echoing in the cavernous room.
“Good. Escort my wife to the sitting room. She is to wait there under guard until David returns with the box,” Nathan commanded, not taking his eyes off Claire.
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Marcus didn’t move. He stood planted like an oak tree, looking at Nathan, then slowly shifted his gaze to Claire. A silent, terrifying communication passed between them—a subtle nod from the wife to the guard.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir,” Marcus said smoothly. With a metallic click, he unclasped the holster. In one fluid, practiced motion, he drew the weapon and leveled it squarely at Nathan’s chest. “Mrs. Whitmore gives the orders tonight.”