425 I was eight months pregnant and suffering from heatstroke when my husband locked me out in the 100-degree backyard. "Flip the burgers, the smoke is ruining my mother's hair," he yelled from the air-conditioned kitchen. Through the glass, I saw his parents drinking iced tea and pointing at my sweat-soaked clothes. As my vision blurred and the ground rushed up to meet me, they didn't know I had just hit the emergency GPS beacon on my phone—sending my exact coordinates to my brother's private security firm.

Before Claire could swing the skillet, a sudden, blinding light pierced the kitchen windows.

It wasn't the headlights of another SUV. It was the powerful searchlight of a helicopter, hovering directly over the lake.

"This is the Federal Bureau of Investigation!" a booming voice echoed from a loudspeaker outside, drowning out the sound of the wind and the rain. "The property is surrounded! Lay down your weapons and step out with your hands on your heads!"

Victor’s face contorted in a rare moment of pure panic. He turned to his associate. "How did they find us? The jammer was supposed to block all signals!"

"They didn't trace the signal, Victor," Claire said, a triumphant smile breaking through her fear. She pointed to Barnaby, the puppy, who was happily chewing on a small, black plastic disc under the dining table. "I didn't call them tonight. I called them three days ago when I found a tracking device on my car. Agent Vance and I set a trap. We knew Vivian's associates would eventually come for the deed."

"You... you used yourself as bait again?" Victor hissed, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"I learned from the best," Claire said coolly.

With a desperate curse, Victor lunged at Claire, his gun raised. But Ethan, who had been feigning unconsciousness on the floor, suddenly threw himself at Victor’s legs, tackling him to the hardwood floor.

The gun went off, the bullet embedding itself in the kitchen ceiling.

Claire didn't hesitate. She swung the heavy cast-iron skillet down with all her might, striking the second associate across the forearm just as he raised his taser. He cried out in pain, dropping the weapon.

The front door was kicked open with a thunderous crash.

"Federal agents! Get on the ground!"

Special Agent Marcus Vance led the charge, his tactical team flooding the living room with weapons drawn. Within seconds, Victor Vance and his associate were pinned to the floor, handcuffed, and dragged out into the stormy night.

Agent Vance walked over to Claire, helping her up from the floor and wrapping a warm blanket around her shoulders.

"Are you okay, Claire?" he asked, his face pale with concern.

"We're fine," Claire gasped, pulling Maya back into her arms. The baby was crying now, frightened by the noise, but she was safe. "Is it over? Is it finally over?"

"Yes," Agent Vance said, looking down at the handcuffed Victor being loaded into the back of an armored vehicle. "With Victor and Victoria Vance in custody, the entire network supporting the Sterlings has collapsed. We found the secondary cold wallet. We don't even need the deed anymore; Victor's phone had all the transfer logs we needed to seize the remaining assets."

Ethan groaned, sitting up with Julian’s help, who had just arrived with the second wave of agents. "Man... I am getting too old for this."

Claire laughed through her tears, hugging her brother tightly.

As the sun began to rise over the quiet Maine lake, casting a beautiful, warm pink glow across the water, Claire stood on the deck of her cabin. The dark SUVs were gone. The flashing lights were fading into the distance.