Chapter 3
The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and red,
reflecting off the tinted windows of my armored SUV.
I was reviewing quarterly reports,
the soft glow of the screen illuminating the dark interior.
My phone vibrated violently,
shattering the quiet concentration.
It was an unknown number,
but my security protocols immediately traced the location.
I answered,
pressing the phone to my ear without speaking.
"Mara,"
a desperate,
shaking voice breathed into the speaker.
It was Vanessa.
I felt absolutely nothing,
no anger,
no pity,
just a hollow indifference.
"You have thirty seconds,"
I replied,
my voice devoid of any emotion.
"They are looking for me,"
she sobbed,
the sound of traffic echoing in the background.
"Ethan's friends,"
she continued,
"they think I have the flash drive with the offshore account passwords."
"And do you,"
I asked coldly.
"Yes,"
she confessed,
crying harder now.
"He gave it to me the night before everything fell apart,"
she explained,
"he told me to hide it."
I leaned back against the leather seat,
processing this new variable.
Ethan had used her,
just as he had tried to use me.
"Why are you calling me,"
I demanded.
"Because Gabriel's men are the only ones who can protect me,"
she pleaded.
The irony was almost suffocating,
the woman who had smiled while I lay bleeding was now begging for my mercy.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't let them find you,"
I said,
my words cutting through her hysterics like ice.
"Because if they kill me,"
she choked out,
"they get the money,
and they will use it to hunt you and your daughter."
She wasn't wrong,
and that was the only thing keeping me on the line.
"Send the coordinates,"
I ordered,
hanging up before she could say another word.
I tapped the glass partition,
signaling my driver.
"Change of plans,"
I instructed,
relaying the abandoned warehouse district address Vanessa had just sent.
When we arrived,
the rain had started again,
washing the gritty streets in a cold downpour.
Two of Gabriel's tactical teams were already positioned in the shadows,
invisible to the untrained eye.
I stepped out of the vehicle,
the collar of my coat turned up against the biting wind.
Vanessa was huddled under a broken streetlamp,
clutching a damp purse to her chest.
She looked terrible,
her designer clothes ruined,
her face bruised and exhausted.
When she saw me,
she practically collapsed,
crawling toward my boots.
"Thank you,"
she wept,
holding out a small,
silver flash drive.
I didn't take it immediately.
I looked down at her,
remembering the diamond bracelet she had worn,
the one she had stolen from my life.
"This doesn't grant you forgiveness,"
I told her bluntly,
finally snatching the drive from her trembling fingers.
"I know,"
she whispered,
staring at the wet pavement.
"My men will put you on a plane to a facility in Switzerland,"
I explained,
"you will remain there,
under a new name,
until the trials are over."
"If you try to run,"
I warned,
leaning closer so she could hear every syllable,
"I will personally give your location to the men hunting you."
She nodded frantically,
completely broken.
I turned away,
walking back to the warmth of my SUV.
May you like
I had the leverage now,
and Ethan's shadowy partners were about to learn a very painful lesson.
