Chapter 6 - The Tracker
I stood perfectly still in the center of the luxurious safehouse.
Tyler's voice on the phone sounded broken, frantic, and openly weeping.
"He has my mother, doesn't he?" I asked coldly, ignoring his tears.
"Cross is using Karin to manipulate the entire syndicate board," Tyler cried out.
"Please, Giana, run away from him before it's too late for both of us."
I hung up the phone without saying another single word.
I turned around to look at Mr. Cross.
He was sitting on the leather sofa, casually adjusting his bloody bandage.
He looked exactly like a dangerous, lethal killer who belonged to the underworld.
But Tyler was a proven liar, a coward, and a man who wanted me to burn in my own home.
I had to trust my own instincts.
"Who called?" Mr. Cross asked, his dark eyes studying my pale face.
"Spam caller," I lied smoothly, forcing my voice to remain steady.
I needed time to figure out the absolute truth before making my next move.
I walked into the kitchen to pour a glass of ice water.
I set my purse on the black granite counter.
A small, strange blinking red light caught my attention inside the bag.
It was hidden deep inside the inner lining of my expensive leather handbag.
I reached in and pulled out a microscopic GPS tracking device.
Tyler had secretly tracked my movements.
Or maybe Mr. Cross had planted it while we were in the SUV.
I carefully examined the small metal casing under the kitchen lights.
There was a tiny, distinct logo printed on the back of the device.
It was the corporate logo for a private security firm called Apex Solutions.
I recognized that specific logo instantly.
My best friend, Sarah, was the Vice President of Apex Solutions.
She was the one who had given me this handbag as a gift for my birthday last month.
Before I could fully process this massive betrayal, the heavy steel doors of the safehouse violently blew open.
Thick white smoke poured directly into the living room.
Armed men flooded the penthouse, aiming bright red laser sights directly at our chests.
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A tall woman stepped through the clearing smoke, holding a suppressed pistol in her hand.
It was Sarah.
