Chapter 8 - The Choice of a Lifetime"Protective custody?" Maeve echoed, a bitter, humorless smile touching her lips. "Is that what you call what happened in Chicago, Agent Miller? When your office leaked my safehouse location to the syndicate in exchange for a conviction?"
Miller’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, his eyes flashing with sudden panic. "That’s a serious accusation, Miss Donnelly. You have no proof—"
"I copied every financial ledger before I walked out," Maeve interrupted smoothly, taking a slow step down the grand staircase. "Including the kickback accounts assigned to federal prosecutors in the Northeast district. Your name was on page four, Miller."
The two local detectives flanking Miller exchanged uneasy glances, stepping half a pace back from their superior.
Miller’s face flushed dark red. "She's lying! She's delirious, she just got out of the hospital—arrest her for obstruction of justice!" He lunged forward past Callum, reaching for his handcuffs.
It was a fatal mistake.
In a blur of motion, Callum’s hand shot out, catching Miller by the collar of his expensive suit. With terrifying, controlled strength, Callum lifted the federal agent off his feet and slammed him against the marble pillar with a sickening thud.
The detectives drew their weapons, but Marcus and Dante materialized from the shadows of the hallway instantly, their own guns leveled squarely at the cops' chests.
"Drop the iron," Marcus snarled.
The weapons hit the marble floor with a clatter.
Callum leaned in close to Miller, whose face was turning blue as Callum’s fist held him suspended against the stone.
"You walk out of my house right now," Callum whispered, his voice barely audible, yet freezing the blood in everyone's veins. "You take your fake warrants, your corrupt files, and your cheap suits back to Washington. And if you ever breathe Maeve’s name again, I won't just ruin your career. I'll bury you beneath this foundation."
Callum loosened his grip. Miller slid down the pillar, gasping for air, clutching his bruised throat.
May you like
"Get out," Callum commanded.
The disgraced agent scrambled to his feet, shoved past his stunned detectives, and bolted through the front door into the snow, slamming it behind him.
