Chapter 1 - The Setup
The red and blue lights sliced through the darkness of the guest room, painting Maria’s pale face in violent neon strokes. The heavy thud of combat boots echoed downstairs. They were moving fast, clearing the ground floor with the ruthless efficiency of a tactical raid.
"Maria," I choked out, the reality of the trap closing around my throat. "Marcus set us up. The dinner invitation—it was to get me out of the house so they could plant this."
Maria didn't panic. She possessed the cold, terrifying calm of a woman who had spent her life surviving storms. She reached into the largest cardboard box, pulled out a small, encrypted black flash drive, and shoved it into the breast pocket of my suit.
"Do not let them find this, Mr. Vance," she whispered fiercely. "It has the Cayman offshore routing numbers. It is the only map to your money."
Before I could process her words, the bedroom door was kicked off its hinges. Four heavily armed LAPD officers swarmed the room, assault rifles raised.
"Hands in the air! Do it now!"
I raised my hands, feeling the cold steel of the flash drive pressing against my chest. They slammed me against the wall, kicking my legs apart. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them roughly handcuff Maria, forcing her to her knees.
A detective in a cheap tan suit walked into the room, surveying the mountains of cash and the forged documents. He smiled, pulling out his radio. "We got him. Richard Vance is in custody. And it looks like he was packing his bags to flee the country."
May you like
They marched us out of the estate in handcuffs. As they shoved me into the back of a police cruiser, I looked across the street. Parked in the shadows under an oak tree was a sleek black Mercedes. The window rolled down just an inch. I saw the glowing tip of a cigar, and the unmistakable, arrogant silhouette of Marcus Thorne.
He was watching his masterpiece unfold.
