Chapter 236
“You think you’re funny,” Charla hissed. “Tomorrow. Two PM. The hospital lobby. If you come and apologize — on your knees, in front of the cameras — I might convince my father to drop the criminal charges. You’ll just pay the money.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you go to prison,” Charla said, her voice turning cheerful. “And I’ll make sure Elia gets a very nice room at the English estate. I’ve always wanted a daughter.”
Cailin’s grip tightened on the phone until the plastic creaked.
“You stay away from her,” Cailin said, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
“See you at two, Cali. Wear something humble.”
The line went dead.
Cailin stared at the phone for a moment.
“She wants a show,” she said. “She wants to break me publicly so that even if I win in court later, my reputation is already rubble.”
“She’s digging her own grave,” Ashley said, holding up a small black USB drive. “The audio is cleaned up — crystal clear. I also pulled the metadata to prove the timestamp.”
“Good.”
Cailin crossed to her suitcase and lifted out a garment bag.
“What are you wearing?” Ashley asked. “Something humble?”
Cailin unzipped the bag.
Inside was a suit. Not black. Not gray.
Red. Blood red. Sharp lapels, a tailored waist. A power suit — a war suit. Ashley had managed to retrieve one of her emergency go-bags from the apartment during the chaos, and this had been waiting in it, patient as a held breath, for exactly this moment.
“I’m not going there to apologize,” Cailin said. “I’m going there to end her.”
In his office at Holloway Tower, Hilliard stared at the press release Charla had distributed.
Victim of Brutal Attack to Speak Out.
“She’s turning this into a circus,” Gavin said from beside the desk. “CNN is sending a crew. It’s going to be live.”
“Let it be live,” Hilliard said. He stood and moved to the window. “The brighter the light, the darker the shadow.”
“Sir, if Cailin goes there — it’s a trap. They’ll ambush her.”
“Cailin knows it’s a trap,” Hilliard said. He thought of the fire in her eyes last night in the rain. “She’s counting on it.”
“Are you going?”
“Yes.” He reached for his jacket. “I need to be there when the walls come down.”
“To catch Charla?”
“No,” Hilliard said. “To make sure no one stops Cailin from swinging the sledgehammer.”
That night, Cailin couldn’t sleep.
She sat on the edge of the cot and video-called the kids. They were safe at Kegan’s secure location.
“Mommy, are you okay?” Elia asked, pressing her face so close to the screen that her nose went blurry.
“I’m fine, baby. Just work stuff.”
“We’re helping!” Aron shouted from somewhere in the background. “We hacked the hospital’s digital signage system. We have root access!”
“Aron!” Cailin said sharply — though a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth despite herself. “What did I say about federal crimes?”
“It’s not a crime if they deserve it,” Davy piped up.
Cailin closed her eyes briefly. They were definitely Hilliard’s children.