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PROLOGUE
GEORGIA
Black liquid rippled inside the tan ceramic mug with each bumpy turn of the uneven bottom against the weathered table. The coffee’s heat evaporated a while ago, making the fingers curled around the side once again chilled, but that wasn’t the reason for the way they trembled. My nerves were frayed after the last few days of gathering the information I needed for this meeting.
For what felt like the hundredth time since I sat in the ripped booth seat, I tugged the Louis Vuitton duffel stuffed with only the necessities closer to my side, gaze flicking to the weathered faces of the diner’s other patrons and waitstaff, ensuring I wasn’t recognized.
This was not my typical hangout, but that was the point. No one in my circle of so-called friends and associates would come here, meaning the risk of being recognized was minimal.
Perfect.
My teeth worried at the corner of my lower lip, the taste of copper hitting my tongue where I’d chewed it raw during the last three days.
Three days. That was all it took for my not-so-perfect but comfortable life to be turned upside down. I went from wondering where to make reservations for Thanksgiving next week to this. Now I didn’t know who I could trust or what tomorrow would bring for Gracie and me.
This meeting was my only option for justice and freedom.
The life I was fully prepared to leave behind was filled with stuff, fake friends, and a penthouse that overlooked Central Park, but it was also desolate, cold. Even so, there was comfort in the familiar, even if it wasn’t fulfilling. The life I lived here in New York City wasn’t what I dreamed of as a little girl, of a home filled with love, warmth, and laughter, yet I was safe at night and had an amazing career that I’d worked my ass off to achieve.
But none of that mattered now.
One night. Thirty seconds of eavesdropping, and my life and Gracie’s would never be the same.
A lump formed in my throat, threatening to suffocate me as the memories of that night filtered through, like it had every minute since I overheard Barrett and his friends talking in his office. I stared at the bitter coffee as the reality of the situation settled in my gut like a lead weight.
Gone were my daily trips to Starbucks, the shopping trips with Gracie, lazy weekends watching crime show documentaries while she zipped from one activity to another.
My life came to an abrupt stop with one overheard conversation. That night, I was determined to break through their boys’ club circle and make them see me as an equal. Which I was, considering I was the CIO of the software company where the men sat on the board and my husband was the CEO.
Instead, I uncovered something dark. The main reason I was never allowed on the boys-only weekends at some ranch or invited to fancy dinners where they all were in attendance.
I tilted my face up to the ceiling to keep the hot tears filling my lower lids from spilling over.
Sixteen years together, married fourteen, and I had no idea the disgusting monster he was deep down. I watched all those crime shows, assumed everyone I met was a killer or on the cusp of becoming one, yet I never suspected my husband. Some would say money changes people, and maybe that was what happened with Barrett. When we first met, we were young, ambitious, and eager to make a name for ourselves in the world. Maybe being stuck behind my computer, focused on developing new programs as the company grew to the multimillion-dollar powerhouse it was kept me from succumbing to the same fate.
Though deep in my gut, I would never, ever lie, cheat, or steal, or worse, risk our daughter’s safety for money and power. Not like Barrett did the other night when he thought I was locked away in my office working until the early morning hours like I often did, when he thought it was only him and a couple board member friends having drinks with no one listening.
“He’s getting closer,” Barrett hissed. “Not sure how much longer I can keep that fucking agent from digging deeper.”
“I can help make that Agent Carleigh situation go away,” a deep voice said.
“And what will that cost me?” Barrett responded, clearly intrigued.
“Gracie is becoming a beautiful woman, don’t you think? Let me have a night with her, and I’ll make sure all your FBI troubles go away.”
Barrett laughed. “That seems like a small price to pay for what that bastard is trying to uncover. I’m fucked if he realizes how close to the truth he’s gotten recently. But her birthday is soon. Let’s at least wait until she’s a teenager.”
“Bring her to my estate for her birthday. I’ll give her a gift she’ll never forget.”
The combined male laughter had skittered down my spine, my anger and terror so strong I forgot to breathe until I was back in my office.
A rogue tear escaped, rolling down my cheek. I wiped it away before anyone could take notice. Crying in the middle of the diner would only draw attention, which was exactly what I needed to avoid.
The bell above the front door rang out. A thin man fluffed out his thick overcoat, spraying sprinkles of melted snowflakes everywhere. His intense gaze swept the restaurant, clearly looking for someone as he scanned each person before finding the one he was there to meet.
Me.
Our eyes locked, and I dipped my chin in a shallow nod toward the empty booth seat across from me. The heels of his black dress shoes clicked along the cheap flooring, each step adding another layer of anticipation, making my heart race even faster. He paused at the edge of the table, staring down his hooked nose at me.
