Two days after I discovered Victor was running a massive criminal financial empire behind my back, I gave birth to our daughter Lily by emergency C-section, and instead of driving me home he turned the SUV straight up a frozen mountain pass in the middle of a historic Category 4 blizzard, ignoring every road sign and my terrified begging to stop.

The plan was simple. Insane. But simple.

Victor was throwing a private party at his penthouse that night—only his closest allies, the cartel leaders, the corrupt politicians, the men who helped him run his empire. He wanted to celebrate taking me down, to show everyone he was still in charge. The penthouse would be full of people, full of security, full of evidence.

Amelia would go back to the penthouse like nothing was wrong. She’d pretend to be scared of me, tell Victor she’d had a close call at the park, that she needed his protection. She’d get him alone in his bedroom, distract him long enough to get the drive from the safe. Ethan would hack the penthouse’s security system, loop the camera feeds so no one would see us coming. Torres and her team would be positioned outside, ready to storm the place the second we had the drive.

And I would go in through the roof.

It was Hank’s plan, relayed through a burner call. He’d taught me to climb when I was in Montana, said it was a skill every woman who wanted to survive needed to learn. I’d scaled the side of our cabin a hundred times, in the rain, in the snow, with Lily strapped to my back. Scaling the side of a 50-story penthouse was no different. Just higher.

At 11 p.m., Ethan dropped me off on the roof of the building next door. I was wearing all black, a harness around my waist, a backpack with my gun, knife, and a zip line. The wind was strong, whipping my hair into my face, the city lights stretching out below me. I could hear the music from Victor’s penthouse, loud and thumping.

“Amelia’s in position,” Ethan said through the earpiece. “Security feeds are looped. You’re clear to cross.”

I attached the zip line to the anchor on the roof, took a deep breath, and jumped.

I sailed across the gap between the buildings, the wind roaring in my ears, landing softly on Victor’s roof. I unclipped the harness, crept to the roof access door, picking the lock in 10 seconds flat—another skill Hank had taught me. The door opened to a dark stairwell. I crept down the stairs, stopping at the door to the penthouse, pressing my ear to it.

Voices. Loud, drunk, laughing. Men talking about shipments, about money, about “taking care of that Hale problem once and for all.”

I waited until I heard Amelia’s voice, soft and sweet, calling Victor into the bedroom. Then I slipped through the door, hiding in the shadows of the hallway. The main room was full of men in suits, drinking, doing lines of coke off a marble table, completely unaware I was there. I crept past them, my boots silent on the carpet, stopping outside Victor’s bedroom door.

Amelia’s voice: “I’m just so scared, Victor. What if she comes here? What if she hurts Mia?”

Victor’s voice, low and soothing: “She’ll never get within a mile of this place, baby. I’ve got 20 armed guards downstairs. She’s dead meat. By tomorrow morning, no one will even remember her name.”

A click. The safe opening.

Amelia: “Oh, look. I found this old drive. What’s on it?”

Victor, laughing: “Nothing you need to worry about, baby. Just old business files. Give it here—”

A crash. A scream.

I kicked the door open.

Amelia was on the floor, her lip bleeding, the USB drive clutched in her hand. Victor was standing over her, his face red with rage, his hand raised to hit her again. He looked up when he saw me, his eyes widening in shock.

“You,” he spat.

“Me,” I said, aiming my gun at his chest. “Give it up, Victor. It’s over. The FBI’s outside. All your friends downstairs are gonna be in cuffs in five minutes. The drive Amelia has is the last piece of the puzzle. You’re going away for the rest of your life.”

Victor laughed, a wild, crazy sound. “You think I’m gonna let you take me? You think I’m gonna rot in a cell while you raise my daughter? I’d rather die.”

He reached under his pillow, pulling out a gun. I fired first, hitting him in the shoulder. He screamed, falling back against the bed, his gun clattering to the floor. Amelia scrambled up, grabbing the drive, running to my side.

“Got it,” she said, breathless.

I nodded, keeping my gun on Victor. “Call Torres. Tell her to bring the team in.”

Amelia pulled out her phone, dialing. Victor looked at me, his eyes burning with hate, blood dripping down his shirt.

“You think you won?” he coughed. “You think this ends here? I’ve got people everywhere. In the FBI. In the police. In the government. They’ll get me out. They’ll find Lily. They’ll make you regret the day you were ever born.”

The sound of boots running down the hall. Torres and her team burst into the room, guns drawn, yelling for Victor to put his hands up. He didn’t move. Just stared at me, smiling that terrible smile.

Torres cuffed him, reading him his rights. Two agents helped Amelia out of the room. I stood there, my gun still raised, watching as they led Victor past me. He stopped, leaning close to my ear, his voice a whisper only I could hear.

“Tell Lily I said goodbye,” he said. “And tell her I’ll see her soon.”

I wanted to shoot him. Wanted to put a bullet in his brain and end it once and for all. But I thought of Lily. Of Mia. Of every woman who’d ever been hurt by a man like him. Killing him would make me just like him.

I lowered the gun.

“See you in hell, Victor,” I said.

He laughed as the agents led him away.

I walked out onto the balcony, breathing in the cold night air. Ethan was there, waiting for me, smiling. He held out his phone. Lily’s face was on the screen, Hank holding her, both of them waving.

“Mama!” Lily yelled. “Grandpa says you beat the bad guy! Can I come home now?”

Tears ran down my face. “Soon, baby. Very soon. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mama!”

Hank took the phone, his face soft. “You did good, kid. Real good.”