Chapter 11 - The Secret Behind the Mirror
The federal penitentiary was a symphony of heavy steel doors, echoing footsteps, and fluorescent hums that slowly drove men mad. Jonathan Whitmore sat on his narrow metal bunk, staring at the concrete wall. The photograph Claire had sent remained tucked inside his prison-issued Bible—the only personal possession he was allowed to keep.
Outside prison walls, however, the fallout from the Whitmore scandal was far from over.
In a high-end apartment in downtown Chicago, Victoria Hale paced back and forth across the hardwood floor. Her designer clothes were gone, replaced by simple clothes she had bought herself after her luxury accounts were completely frozen by federal prosecutors.
Her phone buzzed violently on the glass coffee table. She picked it up with a shaking hand. It was an unknown caller ID.
"Hello?" Victoria snapped, her voice tight with panic.
"You thought you could walk away clean just by testifying against Jonathan, didn't you, Victoria?" a smooth, unfamiliar voice echoed through the speaker.
Victoria’s breath caught in her throat. "Who is this? What do you want?"
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"I want what Jonathan promised before he went down," the voice replied darkly. "The offshore data keys. You helped him launder the second wave of funds through your boutique design firm. If you don't hand them over to me within forty-eight hours, the federal prosecutor won't just keep your assets—they’ll find out about your offshore accounts in Zurich."
The call disconnected with a sharp click. Victoria dropped the phone, realizing with absolute terror that the trap she thought she had escaped had only just locked its jaws around her.
