Chapter 12 - The Prison Plot Headline: "Grant Thought He Could Order a Hit from Solitary—Until His Cellmate Turned Out to Be Her Security!"
Inside the high-security block of the federal detention facility, Grant Vance was driven to the absolute brink of insanity.
The loss of his family’s hedge fund was the final straw. Deprived of his designer suits, fine dining, and endless credit, he spent his days staring at the concrete ceiling of his cell. But hatred is a powerful drug, and Grant was addicted to revenge.
"I want her gone," Grant whispered in the dark corners of the prison yard to a scarred, muscular inmate known as Red—a high-ranking enforcer in a Pacific Northwest smuggling syndicate. "If you take care of Emma Sterling and that bastard Whitaker, my family will pay you two million dollars from our remaining Swiss accounts."
Red chewed on a wooden toothpick, looking at Grant with cold, calculating eyes. "Two million? For the queen of tech and Noah Whitaker? That's a suicide mission, Vance."
"It's not!" Grant snapped desperately, grabbing Red's arm. "She's weak! I lived with her for five years! She's soft-hearted! Just target the baby... if you threaten the baby, Emma will collapse, and Whitaker will be distracted!"
Red stared at Grant for a long moment, then slowly pulled out a small, heavy satellite phone hidden inside his coat lining. He dialed a single speed-dial number and pressed speakerphone.
A low, smooth voice echoed from the tiny speaker. "Did he take the bait, Marcus?"
Grant’s blood ran ice-cold. He recognized that voice instantly. Noah Whitaker.
Red pulled off his fake scar, his posture shifting from a prison thug to a disciplined tactical operative. "Yes, Boss. Grant Vance just offered me two million dollars to target Miss Sterling and the baby."
Grant dropped to his knees in the dirt, his eyes wide with horrified realization. "Red... who... who are you?"
"Marcus Reed," the operative said coldly. "Former Delta Force, currently chief of executive protection for Whitaker Security. Did you really think Noah Whitaker would leave you in a prison cell without keeping an eye on you, Grant?"
Noah's voice returned over the speaker, cold enough to freeze Grant's soul. "Attempted solicitation of murder, conspiracy to commit child abduction, and treasonous threat against a federal witness. Add those to his indictment, Marcus."
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"No! Noah, please!" Grant screamed into the dirt, grabbing at Marcus’s boots. "It was just talk! I didn't mean it!"
"You meant every word," Noah replied. "Transfer him to Pelican Bay Supermax. Solitary confinement. Twenty-three hours a day in a windowless room. Let's see how much your leather seats matter to you in the dark."
