Chapter 7 - THE TRAPThe plan was either brilliant or suicidal.
My father called it suicidal.
Detective Reeves called it operationally reckless.
Marcus called it unacceptable.
Vanessa called it the first good idea she had heard all week.
That probably should have concerned me.
Silas demanded the exchange at an abandoned freight terminal near the river.
A place that had once belonged to one of my father’s oldest companies.
Symbolic.
Of course.
Men like Silas loved symbolism almost as much as power.
He wanted Arthur returning to the place where their empire began.
He wanted me there because I was the daughter of the woman who tried to destroy him.
He wanted the drive because it could end him.
What he didn’t know was that we had made copies.
Despite Dad’s objections.
One copy went to Detective Reeves.
One to a federal prosecutor Marcus trusted.
One to an investigative journalist in a sealed digital dead-man file.
If anything happened to me, Dad, or the baby, the files would automatically release.
Silas could kill us.
But he couldn’t bury the truth anymore.
That was the first advantage.
Vanessa gave us the second.
“He’ll search Arthur,” she said.
Dad gave her a cold look.
“I assumed.”
“He’ll search Claire too.”
“I’m not allowing that.”
I crossed my arms.
“Dad.”
“No.”
“This only works if he thinks I’m carrying the drive.”
“You’re six weeks pregnant with cracked ribs.”
“Seven weeks tomorrow.”
“That is not better.”
I almost smiled.
Reeves looked between us.
“She doesn’t need to physically carry the real drive.”
I nodded.
“Exactly.”
Marcus produced a duplicate flash drive.
Same model.
Same size.
Empty except for several fake encrypted folders.
We placed it inside my grandmother’s pearl pouch.
I would wear the pearls.
Silas had known my mother.
Maybe he would appreciate the message.
Dad hated the idea.
Which made me like it more.
Before we left, Dr. Patel cornered me.
“You understand stress can worsen your symptoms.”
“Yes.”
“You understand being near gunfire is not medically recommended.”
“I assumed.”
She glared.
I had never seen a physician look so close to committing homicide.
“You are stubborn.”
“My father says that.”
“He’s correct.”
She checked the fetal heartbeat again.
That tiny rapid rhythm filled the room.
For a moment, everything else disappeared.
Grant.
Silas.
My father’s empire.
The files.
There was only that sound.
My baby.
Alive despite everything.
I touched my stomach.
“I’m coming back,” I whispered.
Dr. Patel’s expression softened.
“You’d better.”
The terminal sat beneath rusting cranes and dead floodlights.
Rain had stopped, but fog rolled over the river.
Arthur and I arrived in one SUV.
Alone.
At least visibly.
Reeves had people two blocks away.
Marcus’s team was positioned in three separate buildings.
Federal agents were waiting for confirmation of Grant’s location.
Silas believed he controlled the board.
He didn’t know we had changed the game.
Dad glanced at me before we stepped out.
“Last chance.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“You taught me never to negotiate from fear.”
“I also taught you not to walk into armed warehouses.”
“You absolutely did not teach me that.”
He almost laughed.
Then his expression softened.
“If something goes wrong—”
“Nothing happens to me.”
He stared.
I smiled faintly.
“That’s what you told me.”
The warehouse door opened.
Two men appeared.
Weapons visible.
“Inside.”
They searched Dad first.
Then me.
One tried to touch my abdomen.
Dad moved.
Every weapon in the room rose.
“Don’t,” Arthur said.
The guard froze.
I slowly reached into my coat.
“Drive.”
I handed him the pearl pouch.
He opened it.
The flash drive fell into his palm.
He nodded.
We were escorted inside.
Grant sat tied to a chair beneath a hanging industrial lamp.
His face was bruised.
One eye nearly swollen shut.
The moment he saw me, he started crying.
Actually crying.
“Claire.”
I stopped ten feet away.
Silas stepped from the shadows.
He looked almost ordinary.
That disturbed me.
A man who had supposedly ordered my mother’s death should have looked monstrous.
Instead, he resembled a retired banker.
Silver hair.
Tailored suit.
Polished shoes.
Warm smile.
“Evelyn’s eyes,” he said.
My skin crawled.
“You knew my mother.”
“Very well.”
“Did you kill her?”
Dad stepped forward.
“Silas.”
Silas held up one finger.
“No, Arthur. She deserves her answer.”
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
The admission landed quietly.
No excuse.
No denial.
“You cut her brakes.”
“I paid someone.”
My father lunged.
Six guns rose instantly.
I grabbed Dad’s arm.
“Don’t.”
Silas smiled.
“Still impulsive.”
“You murdered my wife.”
“She was going to destroy us.”
“She was trying to save me.”
Silas laughed.
“From wealth? Power?”
“From you.”
The smile vanished.
Good.
Dad had struck something.
Silas turned toward me.
“Your mother was sentimental.”
“She was brave.”
“She was naive.”
“She scared you.”
His eyes hardened.
I knew I was right.
“Enough,” he said. “The drive.”
His guard handed it over.
Silas connected it to a laptop.
The fake folders appeared.
He smiled.
“There.”
Grant began struggling.
“You said you’d let me go.”
Silas didn’t even look at him.
Grant’s voice cracked.
“I gave you everything.”
I stared at my husband.
“You gave him me.”
Grant looked at me.
“Claire, please.”
“You planted software on my computer.”
“I was desperate.”
“You tried to drug me.”
“I made a mistake.”
“You tried to put me in a psychiatric facility.”
His face crumpled.
“I can explain.”
Silas laughed softly.
“Pathetic.”
For once, I agreed with him.
Grant looked at my father.
“Mr. Vance, I’m sorry.”
Dad stared at him.
“You are alive only because my daughter asked.”
Grant’s eyes came back to me.
Hope.
He still thought I might save him.
Maybe part of him still saw the woman who forgave forgotten anniversaries, business obsession, cold moods, and endless selfishness.
That woman no longer existed.
“I’m not here to save our marriage.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“I’m here because I refuse to become you.”
He looked at me.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’ll face a courtroom.”
Silas stopped typing.
His gaze shifted to me.
“A courtroom?”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Claire. Do you think law matters here?”
“Yes.”
“Your father built his fortune by proving it doesn’t.”
I glanced at Dad.
“He was wrong.”
Arthur didn’t argue.
Silas leaned back.
“This is touching.”
Then his expression changed.
“Unfortunately, the drive is fake.”
My heart kicked.
Dad stayed perfectly still.
Silas stood.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
He looked at the guard.
“Search the vehicle.”
My pulse jumped.
Nothing was there.
But we needed more time.
Federal agents weren’t moving until Marcus confirmed every hostage.
Silas stepped closer to me.
“Where is the real drive?”
“Safe.”
“With whom?”
“People you can’t reach.”
He smiled.
“I can reach anyone.”
“No.”
I lifted my chin.
“You could reach my mother because she was alone.”
His eyes darkened.
“I’m not.”
A faint red light appeared on Silas’s chest.
Sniper.
Marcus.
Silas noticed my glance.
His smile disappeared.
Then every overhead light snapped on.
“FEDERAL AGENTS!”
Chaos erupted.
Silas’s men raised weapons.
Dad grabbed me and pulled me behind a steel support.
Gunshots exploded.
Grant screamed.
I covered my stomach.
“Stay down!” Dad shouted.
Agents breached from both sides.
Silas ran toward a rear door.
Reeves tackled one guard.
Marcus appeared on the catwalk.
Grant’s chair tipped sideways.
A gun skidded across the floor.
Grant reached for it.
I saw him.
“Grant!”
He grabbed the weapon.
For one second, I thought he was going to shoot Silas.
Instead, he turned toward my father.
Everything slowed.
Grant’s eyes were wild.
Arthur stood between him and freedom.
Years of jealousy.
Fear.
Greed.
Humiliation.
Grant lifted the gun.
“Dad!”
My father turned.
Grant fired.
I screamed.
Arthur staggered backward.
Blood spread across his white shirt.
The world stopped.
Then Grant raised the gun again.
And Vanessa stepped from behind a crate.
She slammed into him.
The second shot went into the ceiling.
Marcus tackled Grant to the floor.
Silas disappeared through the rear exit.
I crawled toward my father.
“Dad.”
He collapsed against the support column.
Blood soaked my hands.
“No, no, no.”
His eyes found mine.
“Claire.”
“Stay awake.”
I pressed both hands over the wound.
“Stay with me.”
He almost smiled.
“Nothing happens to you.”
“Shut up.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“You don’t get to say that while bleeding.”
He coughed.
“Bossy.”
“Dad!”
Agents surrounded us.
A medic dropped beside him.
“Gunshot upper chest.”
I kept holding his hand.
Across the warehouse, Grant lay facedown in handcuffs.
Our eyes met.
He had finally done it.
He had crossed every line left.
The husband I once loved had shot my father in front of me.
And as paramedics lifted Arthur onto a stretcher, Detective Reeves ran toward us from the rear exit.
His expression told me Silas had escaped.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
“We found his car.”
I looked at him.
“And?”
“Empty.”
“So he’s on foot.”
Reeves shook his head.
“No.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“He had another vehicle waiting.”
I stared.
Reeves’s jaw hardened.
“And he took someone with him.”
“Who?”
Vanessa was suddenly beside us.
Her face went white.
Reeves answered.
“Dr. Patel.”
My hand flew to my stomach.
May you like
Silas had taken the one doctor who knew everything about my pregnancy.
And he wasn’t finished with me yet.
