Chapter 233
Cailin sat at the metal table, the legal summons spread before her like a map of enemy territory. Ashley paced back and forth, swearing in Spanish.
“Fifty million dollars?” Ashley said. “Attempted murder? These people are delusional!”
“They’re not delusional,” Cailin said, her voice level. She was wearing a hoodie borrowed from Vance, her injured arm resting in a fresh sling. “They’re confident. They think they destroyed the only leverage I had.”
“The phone,” Ashley said, stopping mid-stride. “Kegan’s people retrieved it from the hospital room, but it was smashed in the scuffle. It’s dead.”
“Charla’s lawyers will argue the chain of custody is broken regardless,” Cailin said. She reached into her pocket and produced a small, glittering diamond earring. “They think destroying the hardware destroys the data. They think the phone was the only microphone.”
She set the earring on the table. “Kegan gave me this right before the gala. Military-grade satellite uplink.”
She tapped the earring, and a nearby laptop chimed. Ashley leaned in as Cailin typed a quick command.
A waveform appeared on the screen. File name: Ferris_Wheel_Confession_Backup_01.mp3.
“Live-streamed audio, encrypted and bounced through three continents before landing on a secure server in Zurich,” Cailin said. A small, vicious smile touched her lips. “They think they’re safe because they lost a piece of plastic and glass.”
Ashley let out a laugh of pure relief. “This is going to be devastating. When do we leak it? TMZ? The Times?”
“No,” Cailin said, closing the laptop. “The media will spin it. ‘Doctored audio. Fake news.’ The English family owns half the editors in this city, and with the police bought and paid for, handing this over directly would be like feeding it into a shredder. We have to make it undeniable.”
“Then what do we do?”
“We wait,” Cailin said. “Charla wants a show? I’ll give her one. She’s demanding a public apology at the hospital tomorrow. She’s invited the press.”
“You’re going to go?”
“I’m going to walk straight into her trap,” Cailin said, standing. “And blow it up from the inside.”
The heavy steel door of the safe house groaned open. Vance walked in, looking conspicuously out of place in his designer suit amidst the server racks and exposed brick.
“Knock knock,” he said. “Grandpa wants a word.”
Cailin went still. “Amerigo?”
“The old lion himself,” Vance confirmed. “He’s at the main estate. Says he can make the lawsuit disappear. But he wants to see you. Alone.”
“It’s a trap,” Ashley said immediately.
“Probably,” Cailin said. She reached for her coat. “But Amerigo is the only person Preston listens to. If I can neutralize the grandfather, I neutralize the money behind the lawsuit.”
“He’ll try to eat you alive,” Vance warned.
Cailin slipped her hand into the hidden pocket of her coat, her fingers finding the cold weight of the earring.
“Let him try,” she said. “I’m not the same girl he scared off five years ago.”
The Holloway Estate loomed against the night sky like a gothic nightmare, rain lashing the stone gargoyles perched along the eaves.