Chapter 2 - The Emergency Exit and the Ally in the ShadowsTen minutes. That was all Blake had promised the dispatcher before the authorities would arrive to find Emily surrounded by fabricated evidence, contaminated files, and a fraudulent money transfer sitting neatly in a newly opened account. Underneath the walnut desk, Emily’s mind raced. Every ounce of the corporate strategist who had helped build Summit Development woke up from a twelve-year slumber.

As Blake and Howard turned their backs to review a final ledger sheet near the private wet bar, Megan Brooks subtly kicked a set of master service keys under the desk skirt. Her eyes met Emily’s with a frantic, silent plea. Go.

Emily didn't hesitate. Grabbing the keys and keeping low to the ground, she slithered backward toward the service pantry exit behind the executive conference room. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird as the heavy fire door clicked open with a faint metallic latch. She slipped into the darkened service stairwell just as the front elevator chimed, signaling the arrival of the precinct officers.

Descending six flights of stairs rather than waiting for the elevator—which Blake surely would have monitored via security logs—Emily emerged into the subterranean delivery dock. The cold night air hit her flushed face like a splash of ice water. Instead of running blindly into the street where patrol cars were already pulling up with flashing blue strobes, she ducked behind a row of industrial recycling bins.

Her phone buzzed silently in her palm. It was a text message from an unknown number, displaying a encrypted signal ping.

May you like

My mother beat me until I blacked out, and the last thing I remember isn...

I bought my dream house in secret because my family had a habit of treat...

"In front of a crowd of 20 relatives, my mother-in-law k:icke:d a slice...

“They are walking into the executive suite right now,” the message read. “If you want to survive this, get out of the district. Meet me at the 24-hour diner on 4th Street. Come alone. - M.”

M. Megan? Or someone else? Emily didn't care. She slipped past the night security guard—who was currently distracted by the commotion of arriving police units at the main entrance—and hailed an anonymous cab parked three blocks away. As the vehicle merged into the midnight traffic of Queens, Emily stared out the window at the glittering Manhattan skyline. Blake thought he had buried her. He thought she was still the dependent, broken housewife he had locked out of their mansion. He was about to learn that waking a sleeping strategist was the greatest mistake of her life.