Chapter 3: The Recordings
Graham worked from the study.
Quiet.
Efficient.
Precise.
Three screens lit the room, each displaying a different angle of the penthouse interior.
Adrian stood behind him, watching.
“Time stamp,” Adrian said.
“Yesterday. 4:12 PM.”
The footage showed the foyer.
Mara.
The cup.
Celeste.
No audio—but the movement was enough.
The tension.
The posture.
The sudden motion.
Adrian leaned slightly forward.
“Pause.”
Graham froze the frame.
Mara flinching.
Celeste’s arm extended.
Not accidental.
Not ambiguous.
Deliberate.
Adrian exhaled slowly.
“Continue.”
The cup fell.
Shattered.
Mara dropped to her knees immediately.
Celeste remained standing.
Watching.
Waiting.
Adrian’s expression didn’t change—but something behind it hardened.
“Export it,” he said.
“Already done.”
“Back it up in three places.”
“Yes.”
Adrian turned away from the screen.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then:
“She’s been doing this longer than this clip.”
Graham didn’t look up. “Likely.”
“I want everything.”
“You’ll have it.”
Adrian walked to the window.
The city had darkened slightly, the gray deepening toward evening.
“Prepare legal,” Adrian said.
“For what scope?”
Adrian didn’t hesitate.
“Everything.”
Graham nodded once.
Behind them, the footage looped silently.
Again.
May you like
And again.
And again.
