Chapter 3: The Gift Box
Jordan smirked, puffing out his chest as he snatched the silver box from Clark's hand.
"What is this, a coupon for a gym membership?" Jordan scoffed, playing to the silent crowd around the patio. "Or did you hire this guy to hand me a fake promise ring, Maya?"
"Open it," Clark suggested softly.
Jordan tore the black ribbon off and flipped open the lid of the shallow silver box.
I held my breath, having no idea what Clark had put inside. When I hired him through the agency, I had only asked for an actor to stand by my side for three hours. I hadn't authorized any gifts.
Jordan peered into the box.
Inside rested a single sheet of heavy, embossed paper folded in half, sitting on top of a small, digital voice recorder.
Jordan unfolded the paper.
At first, his brow furrowed in annoyance. Then, his eyes darted across the printed lines of text.
I watched his face in real-time. The arrogant, sun-tanned pink of his cheeks vanished, draining away until his skin was as pale and gray as wet ash. His jaw dropped slightly, his lips trembling so violently he couldn't form a word.
He looked down at the box, then up at Percy, his eyes bulging with sheer, unadulterated terror.
"No..." Jordan choked out, staggering a step backward, nearly tripping over a deck chair. "No! That's... that's not possible!"
Then, Jordan let out a scream.
It wasn't a shout of anger. It was a raw, visceral shriek of pure panic—so loud and blood-curdling that a dog down the street started barking and the music around the pool came to a screeching halt.
"YOU!" Jordan screamed, pointing a shaking, violent finger directly at Percy's face. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
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