The champagne tray hit the marble and shattered, and in the silence that followed, Adrienne Sterling rose from his booth to kill the woman who had dropped it.

Clara crept through the flooded drainage tunnel that led from the bunker up toward the rear lawn of the estate. Rain poured over her face as she stepped out into the dark, stormy night, clutching the steel crowbar tightly in her cold hands.

The sound of gunfire near the main house was thinning out. Adrienne’s forces were wiping out the mercenaries, but as Clara reached the edge of the boathouse, she heard heavy, panting footsteps approaching from the darkness.

She ducked behind a wooden crate.

Victor Moretti came stumbling around the corner, holding his bleeding shoulder, his pistol dangling from his right hand. He was retreating toward a speedboat docked at the edge of the lake.

"Damned demon..." Victor muttered, cursing wildly as he stumbled toward the dock. "I'll come back with fifty men... I'll burn that whole house to the ground..."

Clara didn't hesitate.

She stepped out from behind the crate and swung the heavy steel crowbar with every ounce of strength in her body.

CRACK.

The iron struck Victor squarely across his wounded shoulder. He screamed in pain, dropping his pistol onto the wet wooden dock as he collapsed onto his knees.

Victor looked up, his blood-splattered face contorting in shock as he stared at Clara standing over him in the pouring rain, her eyes blazing with fierce, maternal fury.

"You..." Victor gasped, reaching for a hunting knife tucked into his boot. "You miserable little maid—"

"I am not a maid," Clara snarled.

She kicked his hand away, sending the knife flying into the dark water below.

Before Victor could recover, a heavy leather boot slammed onto his chest, pinning him flat against the wooden dock.

Adrienne stood over him. His white shirt was soaked in blood and rain, his face bruised, but his eyes were pure, unadulterated judgment. He looked down at Victor, then up at Clara standing beside him with the crowbar.

A tiny, proud smirk touched the corner of Adrienne's lips. "Nice swing, sweetheart."

"Finish it, Adrienne," Clara said, her voice clear, steady, and unbroken. "He tried to take our life away."

Victor looked up at Adrienne, pure terror finally breaking through his arrogant mask. "Wait! Sterling, wait! I have offshore accounts—millions! I can give you everything!"