Chapter 7 - The Ticking Clock
The drive back to my estate was a blur of adrenaline and pure, unadulterated maternal panic. Victor had crossed the one line that guaranteed a war. He had threatened my child.
The moment the heavy iron gates of my driveway closed behind me, I rushed into the house. I paid the nanny double to stay the night in the guest wing with Leo, locking the reinforced steel doors to their corridor.
I immediately called Jessica, my brilliant, ruthless attorney.
"Maya, it’s midnight. Are you okay?" Jessica answered, her voice thick with sleep.
"I need you to pull the sealed federal indictments from Daniel’s trial," I demanded, pacing the length of my sprawling living room. "Did the FBI ever mention a missing encrypted hard drive? Did they ever connect Daniel to an organized crime syndicate?"
There was a heavy pause on the line. I could hear Jessica sitting up in bed, instantly alert. "Maya, what is going on? The FBI suspected Daniel was commingling funds with a cartel front, but they could never prove it because they never found the master ledger. Who have you been talking to?"
"A man named Victor just threatened Leo," I said, my voice shaking with a terrifying, primal rage. "He says the drive is hidden in this house. Daniel hid it before the raid."
"Maya, you need to pack a bag and leave right now," Jessica commanded, her lawyer composure completely shattering. "These people do not play corporate games. They will kill you. I am calling the FBI."
"If the FBI swarms this house, Victor will know I called them, and he will hunt us down for the rest of our lives," I countered, staring at the flawless Italian marble floors. "I’m not running, Jessica. I ran from Daniel for years. I am done running. I have until Sunday night."
I hung up the phone. I stood in the center of the living room, the moonlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I closed my eyes and forced myself to enter the darkest, most traumatic corners of my memory.
I thought back to the months right before Daniel's arrest. He had been paranoid, erratic, and aggressive. He had fired the cleaning staff, insisting on staying home alone on weekends.
What did I change when I gutted the house?
I had ripped out the dark mahogany paneling. I had replaced the heavy drapes. But what was Daniel obsessed with?
My eyes snapped open. The fireplace.
The original living room had featured a massive, oppressive black marble fireplace. Daniel had explicitly forbidden anyone from touching the mantelpiece, claiming it was a fragile, imported antique. When I remodeled the house, I had the entire structure demolished and replaced with sleek, white quartz.
May you like
But I hadn't thrown the black marble away. My design firm frequently repurposed raw materials, so I had ordered the demolition crew to transport the intact slabs to a secure, climate-controlled storage facility downtown.
I grabbed my car keys. It was time to go hunting.
