Chapter 11
I lunged into the back of the sedan, Marcus diving in right behind me before slamming the heavy door shut.
The driver slammed his foot onto the accelerator, the tires screaming as the car launched out of the marina lot.
Bullets pinged harmlessly against the reinforced bulletproof glass of the rear windshield as we sped into the night.
I collapsed onto the leather seat, my chest heaving, staring at my sister as if she were a ghost.
Charlotte looked identical to how I remembered her, though her eyes were colder, sharper, and lined with fatigue.
“You’re alive,” I whispered, tears pricking the corners of my eyes despite the adrenaline.
“I’ve been alive the whole time, Amelia,” Charlotte said softly, handing me a dry hand towel.
“I’ve been working with the Federal Prosecutor’s office in Boston for five years.”
“To take down Dad?” I asked, wiping the cold rain from my face.
“To take down Dad, Sterling, Richard, and the entire syndicate,” Charlotte corrected.
“When you walked into that lobby today dressed like a homeless woman, you threw a wrench into their whole operation.”
“Vanessa dragged me across the floor, Charlotte,” I said, my voice tight with lingering humiliation.
“I know,” Charlotte said, her expression softening into genuine sympathy.
“I watched the live security feed from my command vehicle down the street.”
“It took everything I had not to walk in there and shoot Vanessa myself.”
Marcus sat up, checking his sidearm’s magazine before looking at Charlotte.
“Where are we going now, Charlotte? The state police station?” Marcus asked.
“The state police are compromised, Marcus,” Charlotte revealed, tapping her encrypted tablet screen.
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“Senator Sterling owns the regional commander.”
“We’re going to the Federal Safehouse in New Haven. And we’re meeting the prosecutor in two hours.”
