Chapter 4 - The Great EscapeThe evening air outside was biting, carrying the sharp, salty tang of the Puget Sound as a light drizzle began to mist over the sprawling lawns.
Chloe didn't run. Running looked guilty; running looked like panic. She walked with the composed, measured stride of a guest leaving a party slightly early.
As she pushed open the heavy wrought-iron front gates of the estate, the soft hum of an idling engine caught her attention. Parked fifty yards down the deserted private road was a matte-gray rental sedan with its hazard lights blinking in rhythmic intervals.
The passenger door swung open, and a man in a dark trench coat leaned out, flashing a quick, professional nod.
It was Marcus—her godfather’s lead investigator, a retired federal marshal who had spent the last twenty-four hours positioned near the estate just in case Derek’s true nature turned violent.
Chloe slid into the passenger seat, pulling the heavy door shut behind her. The interior was warm, smelling of stale black coffee and wintergreen mints.
"Got everything?" Marcus asked, not taking his eyes off the rearview mirror as he eased the sedan away from the curb, keeping the headlights off until they turned onto the county highway.
Chloe pulled the flash drive from her pocket and dropped it into the center console cup holder. "Everything. Aether Systems is secured, the SEC audit is live, and Derek’s primary liquidity accounts have just been drained to cover the contractual penalty clause."
Marcus let out a low, appreciative whistle, guiding the car smoothly through the winding evergreen forests of the Pacific Northwest. "And the groom? Has he figured out he’s been gutted yet?"
Chloe looked out the window, watching the grand, glittering lights of the Mercer estate fade into the misty distance behind them.
"Not yet," she murmured, a faint, cold smile playing on her lips. "But he’s about to find out."
Back inside the master suite of the Mercer estate, Derek stood pounding his fists against the locked bedroom door, his face purple with rage.
"Chloe! Open this damn door right now!" he roared, his voice echoing off the walls.
When no answer came, he pulled out his phone, dialed his private office extension, and waited for the automated system to pick up.
When the computer terminal finally responded, it didn't play his usual startup chime. Instead, a synthetic, automated voice echoed through his phone speaker:
May you like
Access Denied. All accounts frozen. Welcome to your new life, Derek.
Derek stared at the phone in absolute horror as the screen went completely black.
