Chapter 7 - The Hostage
The cold barrel of the silenced pistol remained perfectly steady in the driver's hand.
I did not recognize the man, but the vicious look in his eyes told me he was a professional.
He calmly demanded that I unlock my phone and transfer all the audio files to his secure server.
I realized instantly that Nathan's father, Walter, was the one who had hired this hitman.
Walter had always played the weak, sickly old man who never got involved in the family drama.
But Walter was actually a ruthless former corporate fixer who knew exactly how to clean up massive messes.
I slowly reached into my purse, pretending to search for my phone.
My fingers brushed against the small canister of military-grade pepper spray I had bought after Nathan hit me.
I knew I only had one chance to survive this encounter in the moving vehicle.
I violently pulled the canister out and sprayed it directly into the driver's unprotected eyes.
He screamed in absolute agony, dropping the pistol and blindly clawing at his burning face.
The town car swerved violently across the empty street and crashed hard into a concrete light pole.
The airbags deployed with an explosive bang, filling the cabin with thick, white smoke.
I unbuckled my seatbelt, kicked the jammed passenger door open, and tumbled out onto the wet pavement.
I did not stop to look back as I sprinted down the dark, rainy alleyway.
I needed to get to Marcus Vance's office to lock the digital evidence in a secure legal vault.
I finally reached the law firm building, completely out of breath and soaking wet.
I rushed into Marcus's private office, desperate to hand over the phone.
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Marcus was sitting at his large mahogany desk, calmly pouring a glass of expensive whiskey.
Sitting comfortably in the leather chair directly across from him was Walter.
