“No,” Daniel said, backing away from his father. “No, no, no.”
Then came the twist I never expected. Daniel pulled his wallet from his pocket, flipped it open, and showed me a badge.
Federal Bureau of Investigation.
My mind went blank.
“I was trying to protect you,” he said. “I married you because I loved you. But six months ago I learned my father was laundering money through shell contractors. I’ve been working with a task force ever since. Your company sale accelerated everything. When your mother told you to say you were bankrupt, she may have saved your life.”
I could barely breathe. “You lied to me too.”
“Yes,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’m sorry. But right now you need to decide whether you trust me for the next five minutes.”
Outside, engines roared closer. Men were getting out.
Richard lunged toward me. “Give me your phone.”
Daniel moved faster, shoving him back just as the front windows flashed with shadows.
Someone outside shouted, “Time’s up!”
Then the first gunshot shattered the glass.
Barbara screamed and dropped to the floor as shards rained across the foyer. Daniel grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind the staircase. Another shot tore through the wall where my head had been a second earlier.
“Kitchen!” he shouted.
We ran low. Richard scrambled after us, no longer proud or commanding—just terrified. In the kitchen, Daniel pushed us down behind the island and spoke with the clipped precision of a different man—the one behind the smile I had married.
“My phone is in the bedroom with an open line to the task force. They were supposed to move in if my father made contact with the broker again.”
