Chapter 7 - The Cornered Rat
I stood on the sidewalk as the rain began to pour, feeling the crushing weight of the frozen funds.
Without that money, I could not pay Dana to fight the inevitable legal war against Evan's syndicate.
I hailed a taxi and directed the driver to take me back to my old neighborhood, acting on pure, reckless instinct.
I knew Evan's arrogant nature better than anyone else in the world.
If he was back in Chicago orchestrating this nightmare, he would hide in the one place he felt most powerful.
I arrived at the massive $6.8 million house I had just sold, noting that the new owners' moving van was gone.
The front door was slightly ajar, the lock having been expertly picked and bypassed.
I pushed the door open and stepped into the dark, echoing foyer of the home that had stolen my youth.
Evan was sitting on the marble kitchen island, holding a glass of scotch and a loaded handgun.
He looked exhausted, his perfect corporate facade finally cracking under the immense pressure of his own lies.
He pointed the weapon at my chest, his hand trembling as he commanded me to sit down.
He admitted that the syndicate was going to kill him if he didn't deliver the money from the house sale by midnight.
He had framed me because he needed a fall guy to buy himself time to disappear to a non-extradition country.
I realized he was entirely out of options, acting like a cornered rat desperate to survive.
I slowly reached into my coat pocket, pretending to reach for a tissue.
I pressed the record button on my phone, praying the microphone would pick up his confession.
May you like
He smiled, raising the gun higher as he told me it was time to say goodbye.
Suddenly, a massive spotlight flooded the kitchen through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
