I was just trying to survive dinner when my mother-in-law k:icke:d my chair and sent me face-first into my salad. “Oh honey, maybe next time sit up straighter,” she said, while my husband laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. They thought they had humiliated me in public. They had no idea I already knew their secret—or that this dinner was about to destroy both of them.

I stared at the screen as the horrifying truth washed over me.

Brenda and Connor had not manipulated my sister into helping them.

Chloe was the one who orchestrated the entire scheme from the very beginning.

She used Brenda's greed and Connor's incompetence as perfect cover for her massive theft.

She had perfectly framed me to take the fall while letting Brenda believe she was in control.

I looked at Marcus in absolute shock.

Before I could even speak, the passenger side window of the car shattered into a million pieces.

A heavy metal pipe crashed through the glass.

Someone reached in and grabbed Marcus by the collar, dragging him out into the street.

I screamed and scrambled out of the driver's side door.

Connor was standing in the street, breathing heavily and holding a black handgun.

He looked completely unhinged, his designer suit torn and his hair messy.

He pointed the trembling weapon directly at my chest.

He demanded that I hand over the laptop immediately.

I held my hands up and tried to speak to him calmly.

I told him Chloe was playing all of us and she was going to take all the money for herself.

Connor laughed hysterically and said I was just trying to lie my way out of this again.

He cocked the hammer of the gun.

He said Brenda had texted him about the decoy drives and ordered him to finish the job.

I took a slow step backward, trying to put the car between us.

Connor moved faster and grabbed my arm, pressing the barrel of the gun against my ribs.

He forced me to reach into the car and grab the laptop.

I picked up the computer, but my fingers secretly brushed against the trackpad.

I blindly clicked the application icon for my father's emergency broadcast software.

It instantly opened a live, unencrypted stream of our screen and microphone to the FBI's main server.

I handed Connor the laptop and loudly stated his full name and exactly what he was holding.

Connor snatched the computer and smiled wickedly.

He said nobody was ever going to believe a word I said.

“Which daughter is yours?” should have been a harmless question

The first wineglass shattered at 8:07 p.m

The moment the mafia boss’s wife called me “an illiterate servant,”

A loud voice suddenly boomed from the police megaphone at the end of the street.

It ordered Connor to drop his weapon and put his hands in the air.

Chapter 7 - The Final Trap