Chapter 3 - The Ghost from the Past
I froze in the blinding rain, staring down the barrel of the stranger's weapon.
"My father died ten years ago in a car crash," I shouted over the raging storm.
The man lowered his gun slightly, his expression grim and incredibly urgent.
"Your father faked his death to protect the family secret that Margaret is trying to steal," he replied.
"My name is Vance, and if you don't get in this truck right now, Julian's men will kill us both."
I heard the frantic, vicious barking of guard dogs echoing from the mansion behind me.
I had no other choice but to dive into the passenger seat of the armored vehicle.
Vance slammed on the gas, tearing down the muddy service road just as Julian's security guards breached the tree line.
"What secret?" I demanded, my entire reality fracturing into a million pieces.
"Your cheap wedding ring from your mother isn't just jewelry," Vance explained while navigating the treacherous curves.
"It is a biometric key to an offshore vault containing fifty million dollars and a ledger of Margaret's criminal empire."
I looked down at the simple, tarnished silver band on my finger in absolute, stunned shock.
Vance drove us to an abandoned industrial warehouse on the desolate edge of the city.
"We are safe here for the night," Vance promised, leading me inside the dark, echoing building.
He flipped a switch, illuminating a makeshift command center filled with glowing computer monitors.
But the room was definitely not empty.
Three cartel mercenaries dressed in black tactical gear were standing in the center of the room.
They had their automatic weapons aimed at a young woman tied to a steel chair.
I let out a loud, blood-curdling scream.
The hostage was my younger sister, Maya, whom I thought was safely studying in Europe.
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Margaret stepped out from the deep shadows of the warehouse, holding a suppressed pistol.
"Did you really think a dead man's bodyguard could outsmart me, Clara?" Margaret smiled wickedly.
