Chapter 6 - Checkmate
Olivia backed against the wall, her mind racing. The guards were closing in. The balcony doors were open, the freezing wind whipping through the penthouse.
"You think Jonathan is going to save you?" Olivia yelled, trying to buy time, her hand desperately reaching into her pocket. "He's leaving you behind, Savannah! Marcus told me everything. He’s taking a jet out of Gary tonight, and there’s only one seat booked for an adult. He’s taking the boys and leaving you to take the fall!"
Savannah’s smug smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "You're lying."
"Call the airstrip!" Olivia screamed. "Check the manifest! He’s throwing you to the wolves!"
"Shut her up!" Savannah snapped, though her voice wavered.
The first guard lunged, grabbing Olivia by the throat and slamming her against the wall. The breath left her lungs in a painful rush. The black book tumbled from her hands, sliding across the marble floor.
"Marcus..." Olivia choked out into her earpiece, her vision going spotty. "Help..."
"Say goodbye, Olivia," Savannah sneered, walking over and picking up the black book.
Suddenly, a deafening alarm shattered the silence of the penthouse. The fire sprinklers overhead exploded to life, drenching the room in freezing water. The sudden shock made the guard loosen his grip just enough.
Olivia drove her knee upward with all her strength, connecting with the guard's groin. He howled, dropping her.
"The FBI is in the lobby!" Marcus’s voice screamed through her earpiece. "I triggered the fire alarm to open the stairwell doors! Run, Olivia! RUN!"
Olivia didn't hesitate. She scrambled across the slippery floor. Savannah lunged for her, her silk robe soaked, slipping on the marble. Olivia grabbed the black book from Savannah’s manicured hands, shoved the younger woman backward, and bolted for the hallway.
"Shoot her!" Savannah screamed from the floor.
BANG.
A bullet shattered the glass vase next to Olivia’s head, showering her in crystal shards. She dove into the emergency stairwell, the heavy fire door slamming shut behind her just as a second bullet pinged against the metal.
She ran down the concrete stairs, her lungs burning, the book tucked tightly under her arm. Sixty flights. She had to run down sixty flights of stairs while armed cartel guards chased her.
She heard the heavy boots echoing above her. They were fast. Too fast.
By the time she reached the 40th floor, her legs were giving out. By the 20th, she was stumbling. She burst through the door onto the 15th-floor corporate lounge, trying to find another elevator.
She ran toward the glass lobby, but a shadow stepped out from behind a marble pillar.
It was Jonathan.
He looked disheveled, his suit soaked from the rain outside. He held a silver revolver in his hand, pointing it directly at her chest.
"You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" Jonathan panted, a manic, terrifying look in his eyes.
Olivia froze. She was trapped. The guards were coming down the stairs behind her. Jonathan was in front of her.
"Give me the book, Olivia," he demanded, stepping closer, pressing the cold barrel of the gun against her forehead. "Give it to me, and I'll make your death quick. I promise."
Olivia looked into the eyes of the man who had terrorized her for a decade. She didn't see a powerful billionaire anymore. She saw a pathetic, desperate coward.
She slowly raised her hands, still holding the book. "You've lost, Jonathan."
"I never lose!" he screamed, his finger tightening on the trigger.
"Drop the weapon! NOW!"
The glass doors of the lounge shattered inward. A dozen FBI SWAT agents swarmed the room, assault rifles raised, laser sights painting Jonathan’s chest in a dozen red dots.
Jonathan froze, his eyes widening in absolute shock.
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From behind the wall of agents stepped Marcus, accompanied by an older, stern-faced FBI Director.
"Jonathan Reed," the Director announced, his voice booming through a megaphone. "You are under arrest for money laundering, wire fraud, conspiracy to commit murder, and racketeering. Drop the gun, or we will open fire."
