The office building where she parked loomed ahead, dark glass reflecting the streetlights.She’d parked in the underground garage because it was closer, because she’d been tired, because she’d never imagined that a USB drive could cause an end to a late night like this.
Just get to the car, she told herself.Lock the doors.Drive away and regroup.
Another vibration.
Unknown Number:You’re making this harder than it needs to be.
She swallowed hard and slipped the phone into her pocket.
The garage entrance yawned open in front of her.
Every instinct she had screamed at her not to go in.
Mara hesitated for half a second—long enough to imagine turning around, walking back toward the light, flagging down help.Long enough to remember the office, the locked door, the way her boss had stood between her and it when she’d realized what was on the drive.
She’d always suspected that he wasn’t clean.
Fraud was one thing.Shell companies, cooked books, political favors, these were common in the corporate space.
But this?What she saw on the drive, and learned when dick biscuit started to monologue?This was something else entirely.It would take a long time to forget the look on her boss’s face when she’d asked about the discrepancies.The way his voice had gone cold.The way he’d said,“this is bigger than you understand.”
She stepped into the garage.
Her ribs ached with every breath.Her cheek throbbed.She welcomed the pain—it kept her sharp, kept her from shaking apart now that she was finally moving.
The air was cooler down here, stale with oil and concrete.Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.Her heels echoed too loudly, each step sounding like an announcement.
Her car was three rows in.If she could make it to her car, get it unlocked and start the damn thing, then she had a chance.But as soon as that thought came to mind, she realized it was a pipe dream.The guy behind her was too close, he would be on her before she could get there.She needed an alternative plan.
She slowed as she approached it, shoulders sagging, breath hitching.Let herself look exactly how they expected her to look—frightened, overwhelmed, alone.She fumbled with her keys, dropped them once on purpose.
Footsteps closed in behind her.
She waited until the first hand caught her arm.
“Please,” she whispered, letting her voice shake.“I—I don’t want any trouble.”
Another man crowded her space, too close, breath hot against her ear.“Then you should’ve stayed in your fucking lane.”
Her knees buckled.
She let them think she was collapsing.
The moment their grip loosened, Mara twisted hard and ran.
She bolted away from the car, veering sharply toward the stairwell at the far end of the garage.Heels skidded on concrete.Pain flared hot and bright through her ribs as someone lunged and missed.
She almost made it.
A hand slammed into her back, driving the air from her lungs.She cried out as she hit the wall beside the stairwell door.Fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her head back.
“Don’t,” she gasped.
Before she could recover, a fist drove into her ribs, precise and controlled—meant to hurt, not break.
“Dumb fucking move, bitch,” the man drawled in her ear, his rancid breath hot on her neck.“You think you can get away from me?Havelock will have my ass if I don’t bring you back.”
He spun her to face him, and the slap came fast and brutal, snapping her head to the side.White flashed behind her eyes.Stars burst across her vision.
