CHAPTER 2 — The Deal Worth Forty Million Dollars
Twenty-four hours earlier...
Martin Ellis had been packing boxes inside his luxurious Manhattan apartment.
His hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Inside a hidden safe lay seven passports.
Three encrypted phones.
Stacks of offshore banking documents.
And one transfer confirmation.
$40,000,000.
The money had arrived only six hours earlier.
Martin opened the final encrypted message.
"Disappear tonight."
"Robert is getting suspicious."
"Never contact me again."
The sender had signed only one letter.
C.
Martin laughed bitterly.
"So this is how it ends."
Five years earlier...
Jane had entered Langford Publishing carrying nothing except a backpack and one handwritten manuscript.
She refused publicity.
Refused interviews.
Refused photographs.
"I only want readers to love the stories," she had told Martin.
He had smiled warmly.
"You've come to the right place."
That was the first lie.
The second came three weeks later.
"The board rejected your manuscript."
Jane had quietly accepted the news.
She apologized for wasting his time.
She walked away...
Believing her dream was over.
She never knew...
Martin had secretly copied every page.
Two months later...
He approached Cassandra Vale.
At the time, Cassandra was a struggling novelist whose previous three books had failed.
"What if," Martin asked,
"I handed you the greatest mystery novel ever written?"
She laughed.
"How much?"
"Twenty percent forever."
She stared.
"No."
"Thirty."
She smiled.
"I'll give you forty."
That handshake created a literary empire.
Within one year...
Cassandra became America's biggest mystery author.
Jane became homeless.
Every royalty check...
Every interview...
Every award...
Every standing ovation...
Belonged to the wrong woman.
Back in the bookstore...
Robert slowly turned toward Cassandra.
"You stole one book."
Jane interrupted him.
"No."
Robert frowned.
Jane looked at Cassandra with heartbreaking calm.
"It wasn't one."
She reached into her worn canvas bag.
Pulled out three weathered notebooks.
Placed them gently on the table.
"I wrote seven."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Cassandra's face turned white.
May you like
Because Langford Publishing had released...
Exactly seven novels.
