My parents invited us to a graduation party for “our granddaughter,” and for one foolish minute, I let myself believe they meant my daughter, Mia. She had just graduated first in her class, wearing a white honor stole and that quiet smile kids get when they are trying not to need approval too badly. But when we stepped onto my parents’ lawn, the cake was three tiers tall, pink, gold, and cruel, with the words For Our Only Granddaughter written across the front. The party was for my niece, who had just finished eighth grade. Mia stood beside me in her blue dress, perfectly still, while my mother lifted a plastic cup of lemonade and acted like nothing was wrong.

We brought Mia back to our fortress of a home and locked down completely. The university, horrified by the attempted abduction on their grounds, assigned a dedicated campus police detail to Mia and allowed her to attend all her classes virtually for the rest of the semester.

But hiding was not enough. I was absolutely exhausted from constantly looking over my shoulder. First my parents, then Heather, and now Victor. I realized that as long as we were playing defense, we were victims waiting to be slaughtered.

I sat down with Elias and Marcus in the living room. "I want to set a trap," I announced, my voice completely devoid of fear.

Marcus looked at me, surprised but fully supportive. "What do you have in mind?"

Elias leaned forward, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Victor is hunting you because Heather convinced him you have millions in stolen cash. He doesn't want revenge. He wants a payday. We need to give him exactly what he is looking for."

I nodded. "My parents' trial is coming up, and their assets are still frozen. The local criminal underworld knows my parents went down for massive fraud. Let's start a rumor. Let's make sure Victor hears that I am actively trying to launder the 'stolen' money out of the country so the feds can't touch it."

Elias smiled. It was a cold, professional smile. "I still have contacts in the federal system. I can easily leak a tip to a few dirty parole officers and low-level brokers. I will spread the word that Sarah Jenkins is chartering a private flight this Friday night to move two million dollars in untraceable cash to an offshore bank."

It was a brilliant plan. It would force Victor to step out of the shadows. He wouldn't send hired thugs for two million dollars; he would come to claim it himself.

"We need a location," Marcus stated, pulling up a map of the city on his tablet. "Somewhere isolated, where no innocent bystanders can get hurt."

Elias pointed to a small, abandoned airstrip on the rural outskirts of the county. "Blackwood Airfield. It shut down five years ago. It’s dark, it’s quiet, and it has only one road in and out. I will arrange for an empty prop plane to be sitting on the tarmac to make it look legitimate."