Chapter 6 - Catherine’s Treachery
The three weeks that followed were the happiest, and most terrifying, of my life.
Sadie was thriving. Enrolled in St. Jude’s Academy under the highest security clearance, she had made friends, excelled in her science classes, and smiled without covering her mouth. For the first time in two years, the dark shadows of grief and poverty had vanished from her eyes.
And Ryan... Ryan was no longer just the feared boss of the Greer syndicate.
In the privacy of the penthouse, he was the man who helped Sadie with her math homework at the kitchen island while wearing rolled-up sleeves. He was the man who woke me with soft kisses in the morning, holding me against his broad chest as if terrified I might vanish into thin air. We had crossed the boundary of our contract; the fake engagement had transformed into a fierce, passionate reality.
Yet, in Ryan’s world, peace was always an illusion.
It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon when Marcus requested an urgent meeting in Ryan’s private study. I was sitting in the library adjacent to the office, reading a medical textbook Sadie had requested, when the raised voices drew my attention.
“Boss, the wiretaps from the South Brooklyn docks picked up encrypted transmissions,” Marcus said, his voice unusually tense. “It’s Antonio Moretti. He didn’t flee the country.”
“Where is he?” Ryan’s voice was lethal, icy.
“He’s hiding in an industrial warehouse near the Brooklyn Navy Yard. But that’s not the worst of it,” Marcus paused, hesitating. “He’s not working alone. Catherine Voss made contact with him three nights ago.”
I crept toward the slightly ajar double doors, my breath catching in my throat.
“Catherine?” Ryan snapped. “Her father was stripped of his council seat. They have no resources.”
“She liquidated her mother’s trust fund,” Marcus explained grimly. “Three million in untraceable bearer bonds. She paid Moretti’s remnants to hire a mercenary extraction team from Eastern Europe. Boss... they aren't targeting your shipments or your clubs.”
“Sadie,” Ryan growled, the sheer malice in his voice shaking the glass frames on the desk.
“Yes. They know Diane is your weak spot now. They know Sadie is her heart. Catherine’s exact words on the wiretap were: *'I’m going to make that little rat watch her sister burn, and then I’m going to take back what Ryan owes me.'*”
A cold spike of terror pierced my chest. My legs nearly buckled.
Catherine Voss. Her hatred hadn't died; it had festered into pure madness.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I pulled it out, my hands trembling. It was a text message from Sadie’s private security detail, Officer Harris:
*“Miss Harper. Emergency. Sadie had a severe allergic reaction during gym class. Anaphylactic shock. We are transporting her via private ambulance to St. Jude’s Emergency Annex right now. Come immediately.”*
My blood turned to ice. Sadie had never had allergies before.
Panic completely overrode my rational mind. I didn’t think. I didn’t wait to consult Ryan or Marcus. All I could see was my little sister suffocating in the back of an ambulance, crying for me.
I sprinted toward the elevator, hitting the ground floor button.
“Diane? Where are you going?” one of the lobby guards called out as I burst through the private foyer.
“Call Ryan! Tell him Sadie is at St. Jude’s Emergency!” I screamed over my shoulder, dashing through the revolving doors into the pouring rain.
A black town car was already idling at the curb. The rear door swung open. A man in a medical paramedic uniform leaned out.
“Diane Harper? We were sent by Officer Harris! Get in, we’ll escort you to the hospital!”
Without looking at his face, blinded by panic and tears, I dove into the back seat.
The door slammed shut.
*CLICK.*
The child-locks engaged. The car accelerated violently into the traffic.
I wiped my wet hair from my eyes, turning toward the driver. “How bad is she? Is Sadie breathing?”
The man in the paramedic uniform didn’t answer. Instead, he turned around in his seat, a cold, mocking smirk spreading across his face. He pulled off his medical cap, revealing a jagged scar across his cheekbone. In his hand was a heavy silenced pistol.
Beside him, from the front passenger seat, Catherine Voss turned around.
Her blonde hair was disheveled, her eyes manic and bloodshot, filled with unhinged, psychotic triumph.
“Hello, little waitress,” Catherine purred, raising a small stun baton. “Did you really think you could steal my life and keep your sister safe?”
The realization hit me like a freight train. The text message. The ambulance. It was a trap.
“Sadie...” I gasped, lunging toward the door handle. “Where is Sadie?!”
“Don’t worry about your little sister yet,” Catherine sneered, her voice trembling with manic rage as she shoved the electric stun baton directly into my ribs. “You’ll both be together soon enough. In hell.”
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A blinding agony tore through my nervous system. Blue sparks danced across my vision. Darkness roared into my ears, and the world collapsed into black.
***