MY HUSBAND LAUGHED WHEN HIS MOTHER HUM.ILIAT.ED ME AT OUR WEDDING—SO I EMPTIED HER BANK ACCOUNTS AND UNCOVERED MY "DE.AD" FATHER'S SICK CONSPIRACY

I didn't show the text to the FBI.

If I told the feds, they would storm the airstrip, my parents would execute Russo, and the thirty million dollars would remain locked in digital limbo forever, making me a permanent target for anyone who ever wanted that money.

I needed to end this myself.

I stole Briggs’s keys from where he had dropped them on the asphalt, climbed into Eleanor’s heavy Range Rover, and drove straight toward Gary, Indiana.

The private airstrip was an abandoned, rusted stretch of tarmac surrounded by overgrown weeds and chain-link fences. A small, twin-engine prop plane sat idling in the darkness, its navigation lights blinking softly in the fog.

I parked the Rover near the rusted hangar, left the headlights on, and stepped out.

I held the briefcase containing the laptop tightly against my side.

“Dad!” I shouted into the rain. “I’m here! I have the laptop!”

The side door of the rusted hangar screeched open.

My father walked out, holding his suppressed 9mm. My mother walked right behind him, holding a heavy flashlight.

And dragging between them, beaten to a bloody pulp with his hands bound behind his back, was Detective Russo.

“You really do have a hero complex, Julianne,” my father laughed, shoving Russo onto his knees on the wet tarmac.

“Let him go, Dad,” I said, stepping into the headlights of the Range Rover.

“Unlock the laptop first, Jules,” my mother said coldly. “Transfer the thirty million to our offshore account. Then you can have the dirty cop.”

“If I unlock the money, you’ll kill us both,” I said, refusing to move.

“You don't have leverage here, sweetie,” my father sneered, aiming his gun at Russo’s head. “I pull this trigger, you lose your conscience. Then I shoot you in the leg, drag you onto the plane, and cut your thumb off to unlock the terminal myself. Your choice.”

I looked at Russo. The corrupt cop who had tried to frame me, who had taken bribes to ruin my life. He looked up at me, his eyes wide with absolute terror.

“Please, Julianne,” Russo sobbed. “Please don't let them kill me.”

I placed the briefcase on the hood of the Range Rover and popped the latches open.

“Okay,” I said, my voice empty of all emotion. “I’ll unlock it.”

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