Chapter 6. What else is there to know?

Clarice frowned, silently scanning his appearance; probably close to 40 years old, shaved-headed, as tall as Hunter but with a heavier build, a classic suit that concealed a communication device wired to his ear. She made a gesture beside her body, restraining Hunter who was about to act.

“What does Mr. Wright seem to be doing?” she teased, tilting her head to the side.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you, Miss. Besides, please show me your identity," the man replied coolly, his gaze unwavering as he assessed Clarice and Hunter. His eyes held a steely glint that made it clear he was not one to be trifled with.

Clarice couldn't help but chuckle, but before she could retort, a familiar shadow eclipsed the new guard. "Miss Wright doesn't need to show anything," his voice was calm, yet carried an edge that brokered no argument. His presence instantly made the new bodyguard shrink, his stature demanding respect yet softened by years of shared history.

The new bodyguard stepped aside, an unspoken apology in the tilt of his head.

“Ah, Jamar! You always like to spoil my fun.” Clarice pretended to pout, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. Jamar's lips twitched in a rare display of almost-smile, a silent acknowledgement of their long-standing banter.

"Someone has to keep you in line, Miss," he replied with a hint of amusement in his deep voice. "Please come in," he invited, gesturing toward the door.

Clarice glanced at the new guard, who looked relieved at being freed from Jamar's piercing gaze.

Hunter exhaled silently behind her, a gust of loyalty in her wake. They crossed the threshold together, the scent of antique wood polish and distant jasmine greeting them.

"Where's my dad?" Clarice's tone was brisk, her heels clicking against the marble floor like a metronome of impatience.

"Mr. Wright is meditating," Jamar replied, leading them through the labyrinthine corridors.

A snort almost escaped Clarice; her lips twitched in bemused disbelief. Dane Wright, lost in zen? The image didn't sit right. She pictured him, eyes closed, trying to silence a mind always abuzz with business strategies.

"Take me to him," she said, masking her amusement with resolve.

"Of course.”

“Hunter, wait here." She gestured towards a plush living room adorned with abstract art that seemed to swirl with life.

"Will do, " Hunter replied, taking a seat as instructed, his gaze lingering on Clarice for a fraction longer than necessary.

As Jamar and Clarice departed, the soft rustle of fabric announced a maid approaching Hunter with a silver tray. Steam curled from a porcelain cup as she offered a silent invitation to refreshment. He nodded his thanks, accepting the gesture without words, his attention still tethered to the retreating figures of Clarice and Jamar.

They both ascended the staircase, the sound of their footsteps muted by the lush carpeting.

“I'm glad you're visiting your dad,” Jamar said, his voice a mix of paternal warmth and professional duty intertwined. Clarice observed the subtle shift in his demeanor, a reminder of the layers that composed the man who had been her steadfast guardian for so many years.

She grinned. “You didn't first ask me why I came?”

Jamar's lips quirked in a half-smile, a glint of fondness in his watchful gaze. "I have learned that you always have your reasons, Miss. And they are often as unpredictable as storm clouds on a summer day.”

“You know me so well,” she quipped lightly, a small smile gracing her features as they reached the door to Dane Wright's personal sanctuary.

He rapped his knuckles against the polished wood, the sound echoing in the hushed room beyond. “Sir, there's a special guest for you.” Jamar placed his index finger in front of his lips, asking Clarice to follow his plan.

She just kept quiet and listened along.

“No guests allowed today, Jamar.” A hoarse voice from inside echoed.

“But this time the guest is very special, Sir.”

“I have no special guests of any kind allowed to see me today.”

Impatient—and wanting to ruin Jamar's fun just like she had done a few minutes ago, Clarice clucked and then burst through Jamar and pushed the door open. “Does the ‘no guests allowed’ rule apply to me too?”

Dane Wright emerged, his expression softening from the stern lines of concentration into the warmth reserved for family. He wore a white linen shirt wrapping around his pale skin, his figure is camouflaged by the shadows of the dimly lit hall.

"Clarice," he said, the name a breath of relief.

"Dad." Her voice wavered between formality and affection.

They stood facing each other, the air between them charged with unspoken words. A nod from Dane, and Jamar stepped away, leaving father and daughter alone.

"Your meditation?" Clarice glanced towards the room Dane had exited, her brow arching in silent question.

"An attempt at peace," he acknowledged, his eyes reflecting a rare vulnerability. "But tell me, what brings you here so unexpectedly?"

"Jane." The name hung between them, heavy with implication. "I need everything you have on her—background, relatives if any, anything."

Dane's features softened further, lines of age and wisdom etched deep into his face. He nodded solemnly, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of her words. There was a pause, a pregnant moment where time seemed to stand still around them "Why? What has sparked this sudden interest?"

"Her death," Clarice replied, her jaw set. There was no pleasantries in the conversation this time, and to do a “father-daughter catch-up” procession was not their type. "It doesn't sit right with me. I intend to find out why."

He studied her for a moment, then sighed. "It's already behind us, Clarice. Let Jane rest in peace."

"I can't let it go, Dad. Not until I know the truth," she stated firmly, her voice tinged with a sharp resolve.

"What else is there to know?"

Clarice's eyes flashed with determination, a fire burning within her that refused to be extinguished by her father's plea. Her dad didn't know anything. She took a step closer to Dane, her gaze unwavering.

"Dad, Jane was killed by her own husband.”