Chapter 9 - The Exchange
Marcus Thorne laughed softly, the sound echoing off the cold concrete walls of the parking garage.
He casually admitted that he was the one who hired Cipher to build the virus for Grant.
He had manipulated my husband into planting the bomb, ensuring the Vance empire would burn from the inside out.
Marcus stepped out of his luxury vehicle, holding a small silver flash drive between his fingers.
He told me the flash drive contained the only kill-switch capable of stopping the encryption.
He did not want the briefcase full of bearer bonds.
Marcus demanded that my father sign over the deed to the Vance logistics port in Houston in exchange for the drive.
He handed me a legal contract, expecting me to surrender my family's crown jewel.
I looked down at the contract and let out a cold, confident laugh that completely erased his smug smile.
I tossed the briefcase onto the hood of his car and told him to open it.
Marcus frowned, popping the latches of the briefcase to reveal it was entirely empty.
I explained that while he was busy gloating, my father's security team had raided Cipher's actual apartment.
We had used the GPS metadata from his encrypted chat app to pinpoint the hacker's physical location.
Cipher had already surrendered the kill-switch to the authorities to avoid federal prison.
Marcus checked his phone and watched in horror as the news reported his hacker's arrest.
He realized that his grand master plan had just been completely dismantled by a woman he underestimated.
I smiled and informed Marcus that Cipher had also handed over the chat logs proving Marcus ordered the cyber-attack.
Federal agents were currently en route to arrest him for corporate terrorism and extortion.
Marcus turned pale white and scrambled back into his luxury car, speeding out of the garage like a coward.
I breathed a massive sigh of relief and called my father to confirm the virus was successfully neutralized.
The digital clock in the bunker stopped at exactly 11:58 PM, saving the Vance empire from total destruction.
I felt incredibly empowered, knowing I had finally taken complete control of my own destiny.
I drove back to the estate, ready to close this dark chapter of my life forever.
My father met me at the front door holding a glass of champagne to celebrate our absolute victory.
Just as we clinked our glasses together, my cell phone rang with a call from the Dallas Police Department.
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The precinct captain regretfully informed me that Grant had just vanished from police custody.
An anonymous benefactor had posted his astronomical bail in cash, and my violent ex-husband had completely disappeared into the night.
