Chapter 8 - Confrontation at the PierThe night of the board meeting, a thick sea fog rolled over Newport Harbor, blanketing the docks in a white, ghostly shroud.
At seven-thirty, the Sea Glass cut quietly through the water, gliding toward the private rear dock of the Newport Harbor Club. The grand stone building was illuminated with crystal chandeliers, casting long yellow beams through the fog.
I brought the boat alongside the pilings, securing the lines in complete silence.
Clare stood on the deck, looking stunning and dangerous. She wore a tailored navy suit she had ordered through Mateo, her hair pulled back into a sleek, professional style, her golden glasses resting on her nose. She looked like the powerful CEO she was born to be.
"Are you ready?" I asked, stepping up beside her, wearing a clean black suit Mateo had delivered.
She looked at me, her confidence wavering for a fraction of a second, then reached out to take my hand. "Only because you're with me."
We walked up the stone steps toward the grand rear entrance of the club. Two private security guards stationed at the doors stepped forward, their hands moving toward their coats.
Before they could react, I stepped in front, my navy training kicking in instantly. I grabbed the first guard's wrist, twisting it sharply to neutralize his reach, and shoved him into the second guard, sending them both tumbling onto the wet stone patio.
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"Stay down," I growled in a low, dangerous tone that made them freeze.
Clare didn't even slow her pace. She pushed open the heavy mahogany doors and walked straight into the grand ballroom.
