An elderly woman asked me to marry her as her dy:ing wish. After she passed away, her lawyer placed the old hospital bag she had guarded for years into my hands and said, “She picked you for a reason.”

Victor leveled the shotgun at my chest. “Toss the bag up here. Now.”

“You think the ledger is the only evidence?” I laughed, a cold, hollow sound that made Victor hesitate. “I handed digital copies of the ledger to the FBI four hours ago, Victor. The feds are already freezing your offshore accounts. You have no money. You have no power.”

“Liar!” Victor screamed, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Suddenly, red and blue lights illuminated the massive stained-glass windows of the mansion. Sirens wailed down the driveway. I hadn't come alone. I had worn a wire, broadcasting everything directly to the FBI tactical team waiting at the perimeter.

“Drop the weapon, Victor! Federal Agents!” voices boomed over a megaphone outside.

Victor looked at the flashing lights, then down at me. The realization of his complete and total defeat washed over his face. He let out a pathetic sob, dropping the shotgun. It clattered loudly against the marble stairs.

The heavy front doors burst open. Swat officers flooded the foyer, laser sights dancing across Victor’s chest. They slammed him to the floor, snapping heavy steel cuffs onto his wrists.