Chapter 1 - The Shadow at the DoorThe voice outside the pantry door didn't sound like a typical street enforcer or a desperate rival thug. It was smooth, measured, and terrifyingly polite. It belonged to Marcus Vance—the chief of security for Sterling Global, and a man whose face I had seen plastered across Boston's financial district billboards every single day.
Sterling.
The name echoed through my mind like a death knell. The Sterlings didn't just own real estate, tech firms, and shipping ports; they owned the politicians, the judges, and apparently, the police department. If Marcus Vance was standing in Ali’s Diner at three in the morning, the local authorities weren't hunting Daniel Sterling to arrest him—they were hunting him to execute him. And right now, they had tracked him straight to my makeshift hiding spot.
"Anna," Daniel whispered, his eyes fluttering open. He reached out with a blood-streaked hand, grabbing my wrist with surprising strength. "Do not open that door. If Vance gets these children, they won't even make it to sunrise."
"He's right outside," I hissed back, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The twins were beginning to fuss again, the smaller one letting out a high-pitched, fragile whimper that felt amplified a hundred times in the tiny, windowless space.
"Anna Bennett," Marcus’s voice rang out again, louder this time, accompanied by the distinct, metallic click of a silenced pistol being unholstered. "We know you're working the late shift. We saw you drag him in. Open the door, hand over the principal and the packages, and we’ll make sure you walk away with a clean record and enough cash to forget you were ever here. Resist, and you become collateral damage."
I looked down at the two infants. Their wide, innocent eyes mirrored the exact terror I had felt every time a foster case worker dropped me off at a new, abusive home. Nobody was coming to save them. If I rolled over, if I traded them for safety and a handful of cash, I was no better than the monsters who had chewed me up and spit me out growing up.
"I'm not opening anything!" I shouted back, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to sound brave. I grabbed a heavy iron flour scoop from the bin and positioned myself in front of the stacked sacks where Daniel lay.
"Stubborn girl," Marcus muttered coldly.
May you like
Bang!
A bullet tore through the wooden door panel, showering us in splinters and burying itself deep into the flour sacks inches from Daniel's head. The game was up. We had seconds before they breached the lock entirely.
