Chapter 4 - The Predator’s Blind Spot
Grant Holloway sat in the leather-paneled interior of his chauffeured Maybach, his legs crossed, scrolling through stock portfolios on his iPad. The city rushed past in a blur of neon and rain. To anyone watching, he was the picture of unbothered corporate royalty—a man who had just shed an emotional anchor and secured his financial ascension.
His phone buzzed. A private notification from an encrypted app: Task completed. Patient expired during transfer.
A slow, self-satisfied smile curled the corners of Grant’s mouth. He typed back a single word: Good.
"Drive faster to the airfield, Thomas," Grant ordered without looking up from his screen. "My Gulfstream G650 needs to depart for Zurich before the morning market opens."
"Yes, Mr. Holloway," the driver replied, his voice uncharacteristically tense as he gripped the steering wheel, his eyes darting nervously to the rearview mirror.
"Is there a problem, Thomas?" Grant asked, noticing the driver's rigid posture.
"Sir... look at the digital billboard across the highway."
Grant frowned, turning his gaze toward the massive, multi-story LED screen towering over the financial district. The financial news ticker that usually scrolled stock prices had suddenly frozen. Across the massive high-definition display, instead of Holloway Enterprises' quarterly earnings report, a stark, high-resolution legal document appeared in bold black-and-white letters: EMERGENCY ASSET FREEZE & CRIMINAL INDICTMENT: FRAUD, EMBEZZLEMENT, AND ATTEMPTED MANSLAUGHTER.
Beneath the document, a live video feed broadcasted directly from the lobby of Holloway headquarters.
May you like
Grant’s breath caught in his throat. Sitting in the center of the executive conference room, flanked by federal prosecutors and armed U.S. Marshals, was a woman wearing a crisp white blazer, her blonde hair perfectly styled, her eyes burning with icy vengeance.
It wasn't a ghost. It was Elena.
