Chapter 2

Alice walked through the broken glass and metal fragments without flinching and held out a brand new backup phone.

"Boss. The pool funds have been confirmed."

I took the phone. The screen showed the back-end dashboard of an underground betting platform. FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS — RECEIVED.

Cash. Real, clean cash, dropped directly into Jessica's prize pool.

Simultaneously, the Oakvalley town chat pinged with a system notification.

[Chloe has placed a bet of 500,000.]

Dead silence.

The chat froze for a full sixty seconds.

Then it detonated.

Grocery store owner: "That's impossible. Is the system bugged?!"

Butcher: "It's a hack. That raw-meat-eating freak can't have five hundred thousand. She can't even afford clean clothes."

Jessica sent a voice message, her voice cracking with badly concealed panic.

"You little witch — you think hiring a hacker to mess with the backend scares us? My dad already called the casino owner. Enjoy prison."

I smiled. My fingers moved.

"Check it. If you can't verify five hundred thousand in cash, my life is yours to do with as you please."

Liam surfaced immediately.

"Chloe, you've lost your mind. I've already filed a coordination request with the FBI on suspicion of international money laundering and wire fraud. Turn yourself in now and they might reduce your sentence."

Money laundering.

I read those two words and my stomach turned over — violent and sudden. Ten years ago, they'd used the same words. They'd stuffed fake ledgers into my father's desk drawer, slapped a money laundering charge on him, and watched him break.

I pressed my fingernails into my palm until I tasted copper.

"Alice."

"Here, boss."

"Tell Citibank to lift the confidentiality seal on that five hundred thousand. Let them look."

I wanted every single one of them to see it with their own eyes — that money was mine, clean and legitimate, every dollar.

Five minutes later, the chat went silent again.

This time the silence was something different. It was fear.

The casino owner posted a pinned announcement:

[Source of funds verified as legitimate. Backed by a top-tier Wall Street investment firm. The bet stands.]

Oakvalley lost its mind.

The shock lasted about ten seconds. Then came something worse — greed.

"If the money's real, we split five hundred thousand when she doesn't show!"

"She's bluffing. She's faking it. There's no way she actually comes."

"I'm in. I'm putting in next month's tractor payment. All of it."

The bet counter rolled. The same people who'd treated me like livestock were now circling the pot like hyenas, waiting to tear the last piece off my bones.

Jessica's pride couldn't take it. She had to own the room. She had to be the biggest voice.

"Five hundred thousand is nothing!" she screamed into the chat. "I'm putting in ONE MILLION. Bet she doesn't show. And if she does — I'll make her eat that cage piece by piece!"

[Jessica has placed an additional bet of $1,000,000.]

Alice glanced at her tablet, voice flat. "Boss. She liquidated the mayor's last remaining trust fund. Cashed out one million."

I laughed out loud. Actual tears hit the corners of my eyes.

Fool.

[Liam has placed a bet of $200,000.]

He followed it with a private message: "Chloe. You've angered everyone in this town. Money doesn't wash off what you are. Tomorrow I'll show you exactly how Oakvalley handles people like you."

Two hundred thousand dollars. Every cent of his campaign fund for the state sheriff race. His entire political future, staked on my humiliation.

I stared at Liam's name on the screen.

Ten years ago, he'd pressed my head down with one hand and made me watch while Jessica shoved raw meat into my mouth. He'd called it justice and smiled while he did it.

I shot to my feet and kicked the marble coffee table.

It hit the floor with a crack that split the surface clean across.

I stormed into the bathroom and twisted the cold tap all the way open. I shoved my face into the basin and held it there until my lungs screamed — then wrenched my head back up.

My reflection stared at me from the cracked mirror. Water ran down my jaw. The brand on my collarbone was flushed dark red.

"Wash it off?" I said to the reflection. My teeth showed. "Liam, I'm not here to clean anything. I'm here to chew you down to the bone."

I picked up the grooming razor from the counter and dragged it down the mirror's face. The metal shriek left a white scar across the glass — right through the place where Liam's face would have been.

I went back to my desk.

"Is the pool locked?"

"Locked," Alice said. She set a matte black briefcase in front of me. "All funds frozen in our offshore account. By the time the party ends tomorrow, they won't have enough left to buy a coffin."

I picked up the case. It was heavy. It held the whole town's death warrant.

Outside the windows, the sky had turned the color of a dead fish belly — gray and flat and cold.

The rooftop helipad shuddered with the low thrum of an engine spinning up. Rotors sliced through the pre-dawn air.

I grabbed my black cashmere coat off the rack and swung it over my shoulders.

"Let's go."

My heels rang out down the empty corridor. Wind pushed through from the far end of the hall and snapped the hem of my coat behind me.