Chapter 3 - The Bloodline’s DebtThe sound of my sister’s voice through the speaker sent a wave of icy shock straight to my chest.
“Maya?” I whispered through my wired jaw, my eyes brimming with tears. “Maya, is that really you?”
“Clara, listen to me,” Maya’s voice was raspy, faint, and filled with panic. “They know you have the drive. Julian knows about the master key. He told Grant to kill you that night in the bathroom because you were getting too close to the offshore accounts. Grant messed up by taking you to the hospital!”
“Where are you?” I typed frantically into my tablet, sending the audio through the line. “Where is Julian keeping you?”
“I’m in... a medical facility near Lake Geneva. But Clara, you can’t trust Marcus! You can’t trust the State AG’s office!”
The line went dead with a loud, sharp burst of static.
I stood in the middle of my dark living room, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Don't trust Marcus? Marcus Vance was my mentor. He was the man who recruited me out of university. He was the one who had spent the last three weeks building the state’s case against Grant.
I sat down at my workstation, my fingers flying across the mechanical keyboard. I bypassed the state’s secure server and breached the internal communication logs of the AG’s Special Investigations Unit.
It took me twenty-two minutes to crack the secondary firewall.
When the encrypted text files decrypted onto my screen, my stomach dropped.
There were hundreds of emails between Marcus Vance and Julian Mercer dating back five years. Marcus wasn't trying to put Grant in prison to serve justice. He was helping Julian eliminate Grant so Julian could take full control of the Mercer financial network—and Marcus was receiving a 5% cut of all offshore transactions routed through shell corporations in Panama.
My arrest of Grant wasn't my victory. It was Julian’s hostile takeover of his brother’s assets, facilitated by my trusted mentor.
Grant had been a violent, sociopathic pawn. I had been the weapon. And Marcus was the inside man.
Suddenly, the heavy iron lock on my apartment front door clicked.
I snapped my laptop shut and pulled out the small, black conceal-carry pistol I had hidden under my desk. The door slowly swung open, casting a long shadow across the hardwood floor.
Standing in the doorway was Julian Mercer, wearing a tailored charcoal suit, holding an open leather folder. Behind him stood two armed men in dark tactical gear.
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“Hello, Clara,” Julian said, his voice smooth as silk and cold as ice. “I believe you have something that belongs to my family.”
CHAPTER 3 HOOK: Julian doesn't aim a gun at me. Instead, he slides a photograph across my kitchen island. It shows Marcus Vance standing next to a shallow grave—and inside the grave is the body of the real Dr. Elias Reed, the doctor who saved my life in the ER.
