Chapter 12 - The Blackmail
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"Julian, the door is jammed!" a woman's voice called out from the hallway. It was his executive assistant.
I froze, terror paralyzing my limbs. If she realized someone was inside, she would call security, and the entire building would be locked down.
"I'll use the master key," a maintenance worker replied through the thick wood.
I had seconds. I didn't run for the door; I ducked behind the massive mahogany desk, curling myself into a tight ball against the leather chair, clutching the stolen documents to my chest.
The door clicked open. Heavy footsteps entered the room.
"I just need to grab the quarterly reports for the board," the assistant muttered, walking toward the filing cabinet on the opposite side of the room. She was entirely oblivious to me hiding just feet away.
She retrieved the file, closed the drawer, and walked back out, pulling the door shut behind her.
I let out a shuddering breath, my entire body shaking. I crawled out from under the desk, slipped out of the office, and sprinted toward the freight elevator. Sully was waiting exactly where he promised, throwing the car into drive the second my door closed.
When we returned to the safehouse, I dumped the documents onto the metal table.
My father and Marcus Thorne began poring over the physical evidence. The offshore ledgers were damning, directly tying Julian to massive corporate fraud.
But my triumph was short-lived.
My burner phone buzzed. It was a text message from an unknown number.
Check your email. - Julian.
I opened my secure email account. There was a single video file attached. I pressed play, my heart sinking into my stomach.
It was a video of my younger sister, Clara. She was walking out of her apartment building, carrying groceries. The camera was recording from a vehicle parked across the street. The video zoomed in on her face, then panned down to the crosshairs of a digital scope overlaid on the screen.
The phone buzzed again. Another text.
May you like
You think you can steal from me, Evelyn? Bring the files to the Grant Park pavilion tonight at 9 PM. Come alone. Or Clara doesn't make it to work tomorrow.
I dropped the phone onto the table, a jagged sob tearing from my throat. Julian had bypassed me and my father entirely. He was going after the only family member who didn't have a private security detail.
