The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife

Liam's POV

This precinct had become my second home over the past month, and honestly, I thrived in the chaos. Every day brought new challenges, new cases, new opportunities to make a difference. My team respected my methods, and my partnership with Deputy Chief Aurora had evolved into something special. The old-timer treated me like family, mentoring me with the kind of wisdom that only comes from decades on the force. His reputation was spotless, his integrity unquestionable. But one thing gnawed at me constantly - Clairemont remained a ghost in the wind.

I pushed through Aurora's office door, balancing a box of those cheese croissants he'd become obsessed with. The man had simple pleasures, and I'd learned that small gestures went a long way in building trust.

"Morning, Chief! Brought your addiction fuel," I announced, setting the box on his cluttered desk.

His weathered face broke into a genuine grin. "You're golden, kid. The whole department's talking about how you've stepped up around here." He stood, moving to the ancient coffee machine that somehow still produced decent brew. "Actually, your timing's perfect. Got something that might interest you, besides the caffeine."

Aurora poured two steaming cups, the rich aroma filling his cramped office. He settled back into his chair, selecting a croissant and taking an almost reverent bite, eyes closing in appreciation.

"These things are dangerous. Your lady and you have ruined my diet completely." Ever since the team had witnessed Chloe take charge during Hazel's crisis, Aurora had dubbed her "boss lady" with obvious admiration. Their friendship had grown naturally, and he never missed a chance to sing her praises. "That woman's got steel in her spine."

"She's something else entirely," I agreed, warmth spreading through my chest at the thought of her. "So what's this gift you mentioned?"

"Remember our friend Clairemont?" Aurora's tone shifted, becoming more serious.

"Hard to forget that performance. Woman could shatter glass with those sobs." The memory of her dramatic breakdown still made me wince.

"Prison warden reached out yesterday. Seems our dramatic princess wants an audience with you specifically." He leaned forward, elbows on his desk. "Apparently she's been demanding this meeting for weeks. Warden finally took notice because she's... different somehow. Even requested a cell transfer to get away from Bianca."

That detail caught my attention immediately. Clairemont changing her behavior voluntarily seemed impossible, yet here we were.

"Different how?"

"Calmer, according to the warden. Participating in programs, working in the craft shop, playing nice with other inmates. Complete personality flip." Aurora shrugged. "Could be an act, could be genuine. Either way, she claims she has important information."

The possibilities raced through my mind. Clairemont had always been our wild card, unpredictable and self-serving. But if she genuinely had intel on her father's whereabouts...

"I'm heading over there now."

The correctional facility always felt oppressive, all concrete and steel and barely contained tension. The warden confirmed what Aurora had described - Clairemont's transformation seemed legitimate. She'd become a model prisoner almost overnight, participating in rehabilitation programs and maintaining peaceful relationships with other inmates. When they brought her to the warden's office, the change was immediately visible.

Gone was the hysterical, entitled rich girl who'd sobbed her way through previous encounters. Her hair was neatly pulled back, her posture composed, her voice steady when she spoke.

"Inspector, thank you for coming." She settled into the chair across from me with surprising grace.

"You've certainly made an impression here, Clairemont. What's prompted this change?"

"Prison has a way of forcing perspective, doesn't it?" Her smile was sad but genuine. "I was spoiled, Inspector. Completely out of touch with reality. I thought the world owed me everything I wanted, and I hurt people trying to take it." She paused, hands folded in her lap. "But I'm here now, and I need to face what I've done."

Her sincerity caught me off guard. This wasn't the manipulative performance I'd expected.

"I appreciate your honesty. What did you want to discuss?"

"I want you to catch my mother's killer." Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. "I want justice for her."

"Clairemont, we both know who killed your mother."

"That monster who calls himself my father." Her voice hardened with genuine hatred. "I can't believe he murdered the woman who stood by him for decades, then abandoned his own daughter like garbage. He's a coward who deserves to rot in hell."

The pain in her voice was raw, real. Whatever game Clairemont had been playing before, this wasn't part of it.

"We're doing everything possible to locate him, but he has resources. We suspect he might have fled the country."

"He didn't run." Her certainty was absolute, sending ice through my veins. "I guarantee it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he won't leave until Liam and his entire family are dead." The casual way she delivered this death sentence made my blood freeze. "He's obsessed, Inspector. This isn't over for him."

"Do you have any idea where we might find him?"

"He kept a place for his affairs. A little apartment where he'd meet his mistresses, including that witch Bianca." Clairemont's disgust was palpable. "I can give you the address."

"How did our investigation miss this property?"

"It's not in his name. I only discovered it because I suspected he was cheating and followed him one night." She looked almost embarrassed by the admission. "I was so naive then, thinking infidelity was the worst thing he could do."

For the next hour, Clairemont provided detailed intelligence about her father's habits, contacts, and resources. She gave me addresses, names, behavioral patterns - everything she could remember. It was more progress than we'd made in weeks.

Before leaving, I promised to keep her informed about our investigation and to ensure Clairemont faced justice for her mother's murder. Her gratitude was genuine, and I left feeling cautiously optimistic for the first time in days.

I called Aurora before I'd even reached my car, briefing him on Clairemont's information. By the time I returned to the station, he'd already assembled our tactical approach. We'd conduct surveillance until we could take Clairemont down cleanly.

The target building was an upscale apart-hotel in the city's busiest district. We positioned our team strategically while Detective Bailey handled reconnaissance at the front desk. Her report confirmed our worst fears and best hopes simultaneously.

"He's here, registered under Leo Wolf." The sick irony of using his victim's name as an alias made my stomach turn. "Shaved head, full beard and mustache. Left about thirty minutes ago according to the desk clerk, but the security footage confirms it's definitely him."

"Perfect. Bailey, did you get the master key?"

She handed over the key card and room number. "Got it, boss. And this place isn't exactly a fleabag motel - five-star accommodations. Bastard's living like royalty."

"Aurora, Barros, Leite - let's search his hideout."

The apartment revealed Clairemont's desperation and resources in equal measure. We catalogued documents, electronic devices, jewelry, cash, and credit cards - enough evidence to build a solid case. But as we prepared to leave, fate handed us an unexpected gift.

Clairemont appeared at the building entrance, oblivious to our presence. I signaled the team, and we moved to intercept. But the bastard was quick, bolting toward an adjacent parking garage the moment he spotted us.

We swept that structure systematically, checking every level, every hiding spot, every possible escape route. Clairemont had vanished like smoke, leaving us with nothing but frustration and the certainty that he wouldn't return to the apartment.

We planted surveillance equipment throughout his room and positioned unmarked units for continuous monitoring. It was a long shot now, but sometimes long shots paid off.

Back at the station, I immediately contacted Sterling, updating him on Clairemont's cooperation and our near-miss with Clairemont. The hunt was intensifying, and I could feel we were closing in.