New beginning: Billionaire love story

Inside the car, Claire sat with a look so serious it could slice through steel. The incident earlier still gnawed at her, and she was determined to find out who was behind it. As they cruised down the dark streets, her voice, cold and sharp, cut through the silence. "Matthew, what did you find?"

Matthew, sitting beside her, sighed softly. He knew she wasn't going to back down despite waht just happened earlier.

"Claire, the guy's a criminal. This isn't his first time doing something like this."

He handed her an iPad, the screen glowing with the details of the man they were after. Matthew had once again hacked into the government system to dig up information. Claire quickly scanned through the profile. The man's name was Ivanov. An illegal immigrant with a track record that would make even the most hardened criminals think twice. The police had been after him for ages, but every time he got captured, he managed to slip away. No family, no roots, just a lifetime of getting involved in dark, shady business. Claire handed the iPad back to Matthew, her mind already racing. "Where's Ivanov now?"

Matthew glanced at her, concern flickering in his eyes. "He's at the abandoned warehouse. But Claire, are you sure you're, okay? You just recovered from the poisoning. Maybe we should-"

"I'm fine," Claire interrupted her voice firm. Truth be told, she still felt a bit weak, but she wasn't about to let that stop her. Whoever dared to ruin her day and, more importantly, tried to kill her, was going to pay. "Driver, take us to the warehouse."

Matthew frowned but didn't argue. He knew better than to try and change her mind once it was set. The ride to the warehouse was longer than Claire would've liked, every minute ticking by adding to her growing impatience. As soon as the car rolled to a stop, she was out of it, moving quickly towards the warehouse.

A guard opened the door for her, revealing the dimly lit interior. There, tied to a chair with armed guards standing watch, was Ivanov. His head hung low, but at the sound of Claire's heels clicking on the concrete floor, he slowly lifted it. His face was a mess of bruises, and Claire could tell Matthew had made sure he got the message that messing with her was a bad idea.

"Ivanov," Claire called out, her voice cold enough to freeze water.

He grinned, revealing yellow teeth stained with blood. It was a sight that could make anyone's stomach turn, but Claire didn't flinch. She was more focused on getting the information she needed.

"Who sent you?" Claire demanded, skipping any pleasantries.

Ivanov chuckled, a low, rasping sound that echoed off the walls. "What's in it for me if I tell you?"

Claire wasn't in the mood for games. She stepped forward, grabbing a fistful of his greasy hair and yanking his head back. But instead of showing fear, Ivanov only laughed harder, as if this whole situation was some twisted form of entertainment for him. "You'd make a nice plaything," Ivanov taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

The anger bubbled up inside Claire, and she shoved him back into the chair. Without a second thought, she walked over to one of the guards, snatching the pistol from his belt. She turned and pointed it directly at Ivanov's head, her hand steady, her eyes locked onto his. Matthew, who had been watching in silence, felt a flicker of surprise at Claire's bold move but quickly composed himself. He'd seen her angry before, but this was different. There was a deadly calm in her eyes that he hadn't seen in a long time. "Who sent you?" Claire repeated, her voice low and deadly.

Ivanov's grin faltered slightly, but he tried to keep up the act. "Go ahead, shoot. It won't change a thing."

Claire didn't hesitate. She cocked the gun, the click echoing loudly in the warehouse. "You're not in a position to play tough, Ivanov. Start talking, or you'll regret it."

Ivanov, with a smirk that could curdle milk, leaned forward until his forehead pressed against the barrel of the gun. He stared at Claire with a mix of defiance and madness in his eyes. "I'm not afraid to die, lady. I have nothing to lose. Go on, shoot me. I dare you." He wore a wicked grin, the kind that made Claire want to wipe it off his face with something far less subtle than words. "You don't have the guts," he sneered. "you have the looks, but you don't have the guts."

Claire's mind raced, but she kept her

face impassive. Ivanov wasn't entirely wrong killing wasn't exactly her style. But he didn't need to know that. She tightened her grip on

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gun, her gaze hardening as on

stared him down. Then, without breaking eye contact, she slowly retracted the gun and smirked.

"You're right, Ivanov," she said, her tone laced with mockery. "I don't have the guts because I'm not a killer. Unlike you."

In

With that, she handed the gun to Matthew, who had been watching the exchange from a few feet away. "Finish him off," she instructed, her voice cold. But before Matthew could make a move, Claire gave Ivanov one last look, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Last chance, Ivanov. You want to walk out of here

alive? Tell me who sent you to kill

me."

For a split second, Claire saw something flicker in Ivanov's eyes. Fear? Doubt? Whatever it was, it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He clenched his jaw and stayed silent, his gaze dropping to the floor. Claire waited, counting the seconds in her head. Five minutes passed, but Ivanov didn't say a word. The silence was louder than any gunshot could have been.

"Fine," Claire said, her voice chillingly calm. "You've made your choice."

She turned on her heel and walked out of the warehouse, not looking back. The tension in her body didn't ease until she slipped into the backseat of the car waiting outside. The door shut behind her with a soft click, and she leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes.

She felt drained, her energy still not fully recovered.

Every muscle in her body felt like lead, heavy and unresponsive. All she wanted was a moment of peace, but she knew better than to expect it anytime soon.

The car door opened, and Matthew slid into the seat beside her. Claire, still with her eyes closed, asked, "Did Ivanov say anything?"

Matthew shook his head, even though Claire couldn't see it. "Nope. Not a word. Silent as a stone."

Claire let out a long sigh, her mind racing with possibilities. "What do you think makes him so determined to keep quiet?" she mused aloud.

Matthew shrugged, leaning back in his seat as well. "Who knows? Maybe he doesn't have the will to live anymore."

Claire scoffed. "Weird. Do you think the one who sent him has leverage on him?"

Matthew thought for a while. "I don't think so. From his information, he doesn't have anything precious. I bet he got bored of the mainstream stuff he often did or maybe because of money. Humans love money after all." "True," Claire muttered, rubbing her temples. "But people like him probably think staying quiet is the only way out."

"We should go...I'm guessing your body is still weak. Told you to take it easy."

Claire opened her eyes slightly, giving him a smirk. "You worried about me, Matthew?"

"Of course not," Matthew replied with a playful grin. "Just looking out for the boss. If you go down, who's gonna sign my paychecks?"

Claire laughed, the tension easing slightly. "Fair point."

"Don't worry, Claire. We'll keep digging."