Chapter 3 - The Shadow Partner
My breath caught in my throat. I stared at the message on the screen, the cold chill of dread returning to my limbs.
Grant didn't work alone. I had always suspected it. Mercer Logistics was too massive, the transactions too complex for his arrogant mind to manage without a silent partner. Someone who handled the actual logistics of the distribution network while Grant acted as the wealthy public face.
"Clara? Is everything alright?" Dr. Reed asked, noticing the sudden spike in my heart rate monitor.
"I need to call someone," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to remain strong. "Right now."
I dialed a number I had memorized from my days at the Attorney General's office. Marcus Vance—the lead investigator for federal financial crimes. He was one of the few people I knew who couldn't be bought by the Mercer name.
"Vance," a deep voice answered on the second ring.
"Marcus, it's Clara," I said, leaning back against the pillows. "Clara Vance. My married name is Mercer."
There was a long pause on the line. "Clara? Good God, we've been trying to locate you for a year. Your husband's company has been under a federal shadow investigation, but every time we got close to the servers, the data vanished. Where are you?"
"I'm at St. Catherine's Hospital. Grant is in custody, and I just pushed the entire ledger to your secure drop box," I explained quickly. "But Marcus, someone just messaged my private cloud account. They knew I was draining the accounts. He has a partner."
"We know," Marcus said, his tone turning deadly serious. "We intercepted a series of encrypted communications from a terminal inside the Mercer estate just twenty minutes ago. Clara, the partner isn't an outside investor. It's someone within the family. It's Victor Mercer. Grant's older brother."
My blood ran cold. Victor Mercer was a former state senator. A man of immense political influence, widely respected, and completely untouchable. While Grant was loud, vain, and violent, Victor was a ghost—quiet, calculating, and infinitely more dangerous.
"Victor is moving to clear the remaining physical evidence from the main warehouse downtown," Marcus warned. "The ledger you sent is incredible, Clara, but without the physical bills of lading stored in the warehouse safe, Victor's lawyers will argue the digital files were forged by you as retaliation for domestic abuse. They will paint you as an unstable, vengeful wife."
"They won't be able to," I said, a dangerous spark igniting in my chest. "Because I didn't just copy the financial files, Marcus. I changed the access codes to the warehouse automated security system three days ago. Victor thinks he’s going to destroy the evidence. He has no idea he’s walking straight into a digital vault."
"Stay where you are, Clara," Marcus ordered. "I’m dispatching a federal team to the hospital to secure you. Do not leave that room."
I hung up the phone, but the uneasy feeling in my stomach wouldn't go away. I looked toward the window. The storm outside was intensifying, rain lashing against the glass like angry fingers.
Suddenly, the lights in the hospital flickered once, twice, and then went completely dark. The backup generators kicked in a second later, illuminating the room in a dull, eerie red glow.
May you like
The glass door to my room slowly slid open.
It wasn't a doctor. It wasn't a nurse. It was a man wearing a black security uniform, but his eyes were completely empty of any professional warmth. He pulled a silenced pistol from his jacket.
