At dinner, my parents demanded I apologize to their golden son or lose my education. I said, "Alright." By dawn, I was packed. My brother’s face drained white: "Please tell me you didn’t send it." Dad froze. "Send what?"

The menacing voice belonged to the ruthless boss of the gambling syndicate.

"Where is my aunt?" I demanded, my blood running completely cold.

"Bring the security code to the abandoned shipyard on Pier Four," the boss commanded before hanging up.

I knew I was walking straight into a deadly trap.

I returned to the library, typed the security code into the computer, and scheduled a delayed transfer.

I set a digital dead-man's switch that would automatically wire the money to the FBI in exactly one hour.

I arrived at the foggy, desolate shipyard with nothing but my empty backpack.

I stepped into a cavernous warehouse illuminated by a single flickering spotlight.

Brandon was already standing in the center of the room.

He was bound to a metal chair, looking bruised and utterly terrified.

"Ava, please just give them the money," Brandon begged pathetically.

A tall figure stepped out of the deep shadows holding a silver handgun.

I gasped as the dim light finally revealed the syndicate boss's face.

When my newborn 'passed away,' my mother-in-law leaned in and said

My Husband Left Me Alone in My Car While I Was in Labor

“You’re Dead When We Get Home,” He Snapped

It was Dean Harrington, the highly respected Dean of Admissions at Ellison University.

"Welcome to your final interview, Miss Montgomery," the Dean smiled wickedly.

Chapter 8 - The Hostage Exchange