Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
Hillary adjusted the delicate strap of her gown as she stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the midnight blue silk that clung to her frame in all the right places. The dress was simple but elegant, with a sweetheart neckline that dipped just enough to be alluring without going overboard. A thin line of crystal embroidery traced the waist, catching the light with each subtle movement.
She’d opted for understated jewelry—a pair of diamond studs and a thin silver bracelet that sparkled whenever she lifted her hand.
As she fastened the final clasp of her bracelet, Russ stepped into the room, adjusting his cufflinks, and she nearly forgot to breathe. He was clean-shaven, his hair slicked back, the dark waves tamed in a way that highlighted his sharp jawline and striking eyes. His tuxedo was classic black, tailored to fit him like a glove, the crisp white shirt a sharp contrast against the inky fabric. The look transformed him, making him seem every bit the confident, capable man she’d grown to know over the past few days.
Or maybe it wasn’t the tux that had her looking at him differently. She wondered, her cheeks warming at the thought, if it was the fact that they’d just slept together—really, truly connected in a way that made her feel vulnerable and alive all at once.
Was she getting all starry-eyed, falling into a silly crush? Or was it more? Maybe it was the man himself, not the charm of the evening or the aftermath of their intimacy. Maybe she was falling for the man who was willing to risk his life to take down the worst kind of people, who could run into a burning building when everyone else was running out. She felt a swell of admiration as she watched him adjust his bow tie with focused precision.
Russ wasn’t some frustrating guy she’d been forced to cohabitate with under impossible circumstances. He was exceptional—someone who’d chosen to make sacrifices, even when it cost him his peace, his safety, his future. She was in awe of his resilience, his courage, and the quiet strength he carried even in the darkest moments. And maybe that was what had her heart racing now. Russ caught her staring and offered a small smile, his eyes lingering on her in a way that sent a ripple of warmth through her.
“You look . . . incredible,” he murmured, stepping closer.
“So do you,” she replied softly, feeling her pulse quicken as he drew near.
They were due to meet with Claire before heading downstairs, to check in on her and see how she was handling things after the chaos of the day. “We need to make sure she’s doing okay and keep an eye out for anything dangerous at the event. Madame Fournier said there would be about a hundred guests. That’s a good-sized crowd and probably going to make it difficult to keep a watch on everything.”
“The burning of the barn was a warning but not a direct attempt on Claire’s life,” Russ recounted. “I don’t think they want to have a dead scientist on their hands. That’s a mess they don’t know how to clean up. I am sure they hope putting some pressure on Claire is enough to keep her quiet.”
The knock on the door felt like an intrusion, but really there were things to be done and they couldn’t stay in this beautiful room forever.
Sophie peeked her head in and apologized for the interruption. “May I speak with Miss Claire please?” she asked quite breathlessly. “We really must be getting her dressed now.”
“Claire isn’t in here,” Hillary replied quickly. Thinking mostly, she better not be in here after what we just finished doing.
“I thought she came upstairs with you hours ago.”
“She did, but she left and said she was going back to her room.” Fear was closing in on Hillary’s chest like a vise. “You can’t find her?”
“No. I’ve talked to all the staff and they haven’t seen her since the fire. They assumed she was still in here with you.”
Russ pulled on his shoes and headed for the door. “We need to find her. She wouldn’t miss this event, right? That must mean she’s in some kind of trouble.”
“I’ll tell Madame Fournier,” Sophie choked out. “Perhaps we should get the police back here?”
“No,” Russ cut back quickly, shooting Hillary a knowing look. “We don’t want to worry all the other guests arriving, right? Madame Fournier wouldn’t be pleased with that.” Really Russ didn’t want that same nosey detective figuring out who he really was.
Sophie hesitated. “I guess that’s right. But I will tell the staff we must find Claire immediately. They will check everywhere.”
Sophie rushed out of the room, clearly distressed, leaving Russ and Hillary alone once more. Russ reached out his hand to her, ready to lead her in the search for Claire, but Hillary shook her head, glancing down at her dress and heels.
“I need to change,” she said firmly. “I don’t know who might be out there or what they plan to do, but I’m pretty sure this dress and the three-inch heels put me at a disadvantage.”
Russ gave her a harried look. “You don’t need to change. If anything happens, you’ll have plenty of time to get away, no matter what you’re wearing. I’ll make sure of that.” He paused, his gaze softening. “Besides, if I’m going out there, I’d rather know if things go south, the last thing I see is you running away in that dress.”
She rolled her eyes, fighting back a smile. “You’re not funny.” After a beat, she relented. “Fine. I’ll compromise.” She slipped on a pair of sneakers under the gown, the juxtaposition almost laughable, but the gravity of the situation left no room for humor.
Together, they set out, moving through the empty hallways and searching each room methodically, their footsteps echoing in the silence. The library was empty, devoid of any sign of Claire. Their unease grew as they moved downstairs and outside, calling Claire’s name, but receiving no answer.
Cars began pulling up to the estate, guests arriving in elegant attire, their laughter and conversations filling the air with a sense of festivity that felt out of place against the growing tension in Russ’s and Hillary's chests. Ignoring the curious looks of a few early guests, they made their way down to the charred remains of the barn.
In the distance, they finally spotted her. Claire was standing by a makeshift fenced area, where one of the rescued horses had been tied up. She was stroking the horse’s neck gently, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. As they drew closer, Hillary could see that Claire looked unharmed, but the weight of the day’s events hung heavily over her, evident in the tear-streaked makeup and the hollow look in her eyes.
Hillary approached her cautiously, her heart aching at the sight of Claire’s grief. “Claire,” she said softly, reaching out a hand to place gently on her shoulder. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. You need to get dressed for the event. People are arriving.”
“I’m leaving,” she whispered, though her voice was stern. “I’m going back home. I’m going to give him what he wants. My loyalty.”