Chapter 7
The park was quiet at noon. A few kids played on the playground, a couple walked their dog, the sun glinting off the lake. I sat on a bench under the oak tree, my hand on the gun in my jacket pocket, waiting.
Amelia showed up 10 minutes late, pushing Mia in a stroller, her hair pulled back in a baseball cap, wearing sunglasses and a sweatshirt, trying to blend in. She looked scared. Tired. Exactly how I’d looked two years ago.
She stopped in front of the bench, her hands shaking. “Clara?”
I nodded, standing up. “Thanks for coming.”
Mia looked up at me, smiling, holding out her stuffed rabbit. “Hi! I’m Mia. Who are you?”
I smiled back, my heart softening. “I’m a friend of your mom’s. It’s nice to meet you, Mia. That’s a very pretty rabbit.”
Amelia sent Mia to play on the playground a few feet away, where she could see her. She sat down on the bench, her eyes filling with tears.
“I found the papers last week,” she said quietly. “In his home office. The shell companies. The offshore accounts. The police reports about the women who’ve ‘disappeared’ after working for him. I was gonna leave him. Take Mia and move to Europe. But he took my passport. He said if I ever tried to leave, he’d kill me and say I kidnapped Mia. That no one would believe me because I’m just a ‘crazy, gold-digging fiancée.’”
She looked at me, her voice breaking. “Is it true? Did he really try to kill you?”
I told her everything. The mountain. Lily. Hank. Ethan’s sister. The files we had. The gala. Victor finding the locket.
Amelia cried silently, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I thought he was perfect. I thought Mia and I were finally safe.”
“You can be,” I said. “I have a contact in the FBI. If you testify against Victor, give her everything you have—his private emails, the bank records you found, anything—she’ll give you immunity. Witness protection. You and Mia can start over somewhere new. No one will ever find you.”
Amelia hesitated, looking at Mia, who was laughing as she went down the slide. “What if he finds us anyway? What if he wins?”
“He won’t,” I said. “Because we’re not fighting him alone anymore. We’re fighting together. Two women he thought were weak. Two daughters he thought he could control. That’s the one thing he never counts on—mothers protecting their kids.”
A gunshot rang out.
A bullet hit the bench inches from Amelia’s head, splintering the wood. I grabbed Amelia, shoving her behind the bench, pulling my gun. Mia screamed, frozen on the playground.
“Cole!” I yelled, seeing him step out from behind a tree, a gun in his hand, his left arm in a sling from the shootout we’d had at the warehouse three nights prior.
“Boss says hi,” Cole said, aiming at me. “Says to tell you you should’ve stayed dead.”
He fired again. I ducked, returning fire, hitting him in the good shoulder. He grunted, dropping to one knee, but kept shooting. Parents grabbed their kids, running screaming from the park. Amelia crawled to Mia, wrapping her body around her daughter, shielding her.
I saw my opening. I ran toward Cole, jumping over the bench, kicking the gun out of his hand. We fell to the ground, wrestling, his good hand around my throat, squeezing. I couldn’t breathe. Black spots danced in front of my eyes. I reached for the knife in my boot, drove it into his thigh.
He howled in pain, loosening his grip. I scrambled away, grabbing my gun, aiming it at his head.
“Stay down,” I gasped. “Or I swear to God I’ll kill you.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. Cole glared at me, but he didn’t move. He knew he was beat.
Ethan ran into the park a minute later, followed by Agent Torres and a team of FBI agents. They cuffed Cole, reading him his rights, while paramedics checked on Amelia, Mia, and me.
Torres pulled me aside, her face serious. “You gave Victor the perfect excuse. He just called a press conference. Said you’re a dangerous escaped mental patient, that you kidnapped Lily two years ago, that you’re blackmailing him for millions. He’s got the whole country looking for you. Your face is on every news channel in America.”
She held up her phone, showing me the broadcast. Victor was standing in front of his mansion, tears in his eyes, holding up the locket. “Please,” he said to the camera. “If anyone sees my wife, please call the police. She’s not well. She’s dangerous. I just want my daughter back safe.”
The crowd around him cheered. People yelled that they’d pray for him. That they hoped he found Lily soon.
I felt sick. He’d flipped the script. Now I was the villain. He was the grieving husband.
“We have to move now,” Torres said. “I can get a warrant for his arrest based on Cole’s testimony and the files you gave me, but it’ll take 24 hours. In the meantime, Victor’s gonna send every hitman he has after you. He knows if you’re alive, he loses everything.”
I looked at Amelia, who was holding Mia tight, her face set with a new determination. She walked over to us, holding out a USB drive.
May you like
“I have more,” she said. “His private journal. Video recordings of him meeting with cartel leaders. Confessions of every murder he’s ever committed. He keeps it on a drive in his safe at the penthouse. I know the code. I can get it for you. But we have to do it tonight. Before he moves it.”
Torres nodded. “Okay. Here’s the plan.”
