Chapter 4 - The Frame Job
I stared at the paperwork in my trembling hands.
It was a brilliant, terrifying forgery.
The risk analysis license number at the top of the page was mine.
The signature at the bottom perfectly mimicked my handwriting.
For nine years, Grant had kept me isolated, insisting I stay home with the children.
He hadn't been protecting our family.
He had been building the perfect, unsuspecting scapegoat.
"He used my credentials," I realized, feeling physically sick.
"Every time he brought home 'routine tax forms' for me to sign blindly, he was building this paper trail."
Natalie snatched the document, scanning the legal jargon with widening eyes.
"This constitutes federal fraud and racketeering," she said grimly.
"If the syndicate doesn't kill you for freezing their money, the FBI will send you to prison for twenty years."
Tessa wiped her bleeding lip, her eyes wide with terror.
"Grant said the syndicate gave him until tomorrow morning to unfreeze the accounts."
"If he doesn't deliver, they promised to make an example out of all of us."
"That includes the children, Mara."
I looked at Owen and Lily, who were watching us with wide, frightened eyes.
The fear that Grant had cultivated in me for years suddenly vanished.
It was replaced by a cold, calculating rage.
I was a risk analyst.
It was time to assess the threat and neutralize it.
Suddenly, the lights in the apartment flickered and died, plunging us into total darkness.
My phone illuminated with an incoming call from an unknown number.
I answered it on speakerphone in the dark.
May you like
Grant’s voice echoed through the pitch-black room.
"You really thought you could hide from me in a property leased under my firm's name?"
