Chapter 2 - The Trap Is Set
At 4:15 PM, my cell phone rang.
The caller ID displayed a smiling photograph of David with the word Hubby beneath it.
I took three deep breaths, forcing my diaphragm to relax, forcing the terror and fury down into the dark, silent corners of my mind. I leaned against the mahogany desk and answered on the fourth ring.
"Hello, darling?" I said, injecting a subtle, fatigued slurring into my tone—just enough to sound like a woman who had taken her first dose of a heavy sedative.
"Adrianna?" David’s voice dripped with practiced, buttery concern over the line. "How are you feeling? We just checked into the hotel in Aspen. Mom was worried about you."
"I'm... I'm a bit tired, David," I murmured, holding the phone slightly away from my mouth to muffle my breath. "I took one of those white capsules you left on the counter... like you asked."
On the other end of the line, I heard a sharp, suppressed intake of breath—Maggie listening in on the speakerphone.
"Good girl," David said smoothly, his tone laced with a sinister satisfaction he couldn't entirely hide. "You've been working far too hard at the plant, sweetie. You need to rest. Did you make sure Owen had his dinner?"
"Whitney took care of him," I said. "David... the pills made my head feel strange. My vision is a bit blurry..."
"That’s completely normal, darling," David reassured me quickly. "It’s a specialized compound to balance your neurological stress. Take another one before you go to bed tonight. Promise me?"
"I promise," I whispered. "How long will you be in Aspen?"
"Just four days, my love. Just four days to clear up some private real estate matters. Rest now. Don't worry about the factory or the lawyers."
"I won't... Bye, David."
I ended the call and immediately dialed a secondary, encrypted line that my father had forced me to memorize when I turned twenty-one.
It rang twice before a deep, gravelly voice answered.
"Vance Security and Asset Management. State your security code."
"Alpha-Seven-Nine-Titan," I said clearly. "This is Adrianna Vance. My father said if I ever used this code, you would respond within the hour without asking questions, Arthur."
A heavy sigh came over the line. Arthur Pendelton had been my father’s head of private intelligence for thirty years—a former military operative who managed the off-the-books security for Vance Bio-Tech.
"Miss Vance," Arthur’s voice hardened instantly, all trace of tiredness vanishing. "I have been waiting seven years for you to make this call. Where are you?"
"I’m at the main estate," I said. "My husband just attempted to poison me with a neurotoxin. He has my son terrorized, he’s embezzling from the Zurich clinical funds, and he’s planning a corporate takeover while pretending to be in Aspen."
"Is he in Aspen?" Arthur asked coldly.
"He claims he is," I said.
"He isn't," Arthur replied flatly. "My team tracked his vehicle twenty minutes ago. His SUV didn't head toward the airport. He just pulled into a private estate in Lake Forest. He’s meeting with Dr. Anton Keller and two representatives from the Swiss Investment Syndicate."
My hands clenched into fists. "He lied about leaving the state."
"He needed you alone at the house, believing he was hundreds of miles away so you wouldn't suspect him when the symptoms started," Arthur explained. "What are your orders, Miss Vance?"
May you like
I looked at Owen, who was sitting quietly on the rug, drawing a picture of our house with bright yellow sun rays instead of the dark clouds he used to paint.
"Bring your full tactical team to the estate, Arthur," I commanded. "Bring a certified forensic toxicologist, a private court reporter, and three armed guards. We are going to turn this house into a cage."
