Chapter 1 - The Trap on Fifth Avenue
“What happened next?” Vincent asked, his voice deceptively soft, like silk wrapped around cold iron.
Evelyn swallowed down the knot of panic lodging in her throat. The rain hammered relentlessly against the floor-to-ceiling glass of the penthouse office, mirroring the pounding behind her temples. Julian Mercer’s bespoke wool coat still rested on the edge of Vincent’s massive walnut desk, smelling sickeningly of cedar, bergamot, and impending ruin.
“I told him to stay away from my family,” Evelyn whispered, her fingernails biting crescents into the palms of her hands. “I told him that whatever he thought he had on Daniel, whatever filthy leverage he was trying to manufacture, I wouldn’t play his game. I turned my back on him. I went straight to the elevator.”
Vincent didn’t flinch. He didn’t cross his arms or tap his fingers. He merely watched her with those predator eyes—sharp, calculating, stripped of every shred of warmth. “And yet, you’re standing in my office wearing his two-thousand-dollar overcoat.”
“Because he followed me out to the curb!” Evelyn’s voice rose, frayed at the seams. “It was pouring. The car service you called had canceled due to flash flooding. I had no umbrella, no cab was stopping, and Julian stepped out of the shadow of the portico. He forced the coat over my shoulders before I could fight him off. He leaned in and whispered, ‘Tell Calder the clock is ticking. You have forty-eight hours to deliver the ledgers behind the oil painting, or your brother goes down for twenty years in federal custody.’ And then he vanished into an unmarked black sedan.”
Vincent stared at her for ten agonizing seconds. The silence in the executive suite was deafening. He reached into his graphite suit jacket, retrieved his platinum phone, and punched a single speed-dial button.
“Marco,” Vincent said without greeting. “Lock down the perimeter of 480 Park Avenue. No one enters or leaves without my personal biometric clearance. Bring two men to the penthouse floor right now. And run a full digital sweep of Evelyn Hart’s apartment, her vehicle, and her personal accounts. Every penny, every text message from the last six months.”
Evelyn felt the blood drain entirely from her face. “Vincent, please! I came straight to you! If I were working with him, would I have worn his coat into your office? Would I have told you about the safe?”
Vincent lowered the phone, his gaze dropping to the heavy garment on his desk. He reached out with two gloved fingers, feeling along the reinforced satin lining near the inner pocket. With a swift, savage jerk, he tore the seam open.
May you like
A tiny, silver disk the size of a coin fell onto the mahogany desk. It blinked once with a faint, rhythmic red pulse. A military-grade audio transmitter.
Vincent looked up, his jaw set like carved granite. “You didn’t just bring a threat into my room, Evelyn. You brought Julian Mercer’s ears into my sanctuary.”
