Bethany barely made it to the bedroom before she heard Derek's key in the front door. She dove under the covers, forcing her breathing to slow, her body to relax.
The front door closed with unusual softness. No slam, no heavy footsteps. Derek was trying to be quiet, which was unlike him.
She listened to him move through the house—kitchen, living room, his study. Each footstep seemed deliberate, careful. Like he was checking for something. Or someone.
The stairs creaked under his weight. Bethany closed her eyes and tried to look peaceful, but her heart hammered so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
The bedroom door opened with the faintest whisper. Derek stood in the doorway for what felt like hours, just watching her. Finally, she heard him move toward the bathroom.
The shower turned on. This was her chance.
Bethany slipped out of bed and crept to Derek's side of the room. His clothes were draped over the chair—expensive suit wrinkled and smelling of cigarettes and fear. She checked his jacket pockets.
Empty except for a business card. She pulled it out and her blood froze.
Vincent Torrino - Import/Export
On the back, someone had written in red ink: "48 hours."
Her phone buzzed with a text. She nearly jumped out of her skin.
Lennox: "Don't go back to sleep. We have a problem."
She typed back quickly: "Derek's acting strange. Found a card from Torrino. What kind of problem?"
"Someone tipped Derek off about the investigation. He's been making calls all night, trying to liquidate assets."
"How do you know?"
"Because three of his accounts just went empty. He's planning to run, Bethany. Tonight."
The shower was still running, but she could hear Derek moving around in the bathroom. Getting dressed, not washing.
"He's not in the shower. He's getting ready to leave."
"Get out. Now. Don't pack anything, don't leave a note. Just go."
"Where?"
"Parking lot behind St. Mary's Church. I'll be waiting."
Bethany grabbed her purse and phone, her hands shaking. She was halfway to the bedroom door when the bathroom door opened.
Derek stood there fully dressed in dark clothes she'd never seen before. His face was pale, his eyes wild.
"Going somewhere?" he asked quietly.
"I... bathroom. Downstairs. Didn't want to bother you."
He studied her face for a long moment. "You're dressed."
Bethany looked down. In her panic, she'd forgotten she was still wearing jeans and a hoodie. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd make coffee."
"At five in the morning?"
"I do that sometimes when you're working late. You know that."
Derek stepped closer, and she caught a scent that made her stomach turn. Gun oil.
"Funny thing, Bethany. I was just checking my computer, and I found some interesting software I don't remember installing."
Her mouth went dry. "I don't know anything about computers."
"No, you don't. But you know about private investigators, don't you?"
The words hit her like a slap. Derek reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun—small, black, deadly.
"Derek, what are you doing?"
"What I should have done three years ago. You always were too smart for your own good."
"I don't understand—"
"Lennox Vale. Ring a bell? Because he's been very busy on my computer. Very, very busy."
Bethany's phone buzzed in her hand. Derek's eyes flicked to it.
"Let me guess. Your boyfriend checking up on you?"
"He's not my boyfriend. I don't even know what you're talking about."
"Show me the phone."
"Derek—"
"Show me the fucking phone!"
His voice cracked like a whip. Bethany handed over the phone with trembling fingers.
Derek read the message, his face darkening. "St. Mary's Church. How romantic." He looked up at her with eyes full of hate. "You stupid bitch. You have no idea what you've done."
"I was trying to leave you. That's all. I couldn't take it anymore."
"Leave me?" Derek laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You think this is about our marriage? You've destroyed everything, Bethany. Everything."
"The gambling debts? The embezzlement? I didn't make you do those things."
Derek's face went white. "How much do you know?"
"Enough."
He raised the gun, pointing it directly at her chest. "Then you know too much."
"Derek, please. I won't tell anyone. I'll disappear. You'll never see me again."
"You're right about that." His finger moved to the trigger. "Because you're coming with me. We're going to visit Vincent, and you're going to explain to him why his money disappeared into FBI evidence lockers."
"What?"
"Your boyfriend didn't just steal my files, sweetheart. He tipped off the feds. They raided three of Vincent's operations tonight. Seized everything."
The pieces clicked into place with horrible clarity. Lennox hadn't just been building a case against Derek. He'd been using Derek's information to go after Torrino.
"Vincent thinks I set him up," Derek continued. "He thinks I've been working with the FBI all along. And the only way I prove I wasn't is to give him the person who actually was."
"But I didn't—"
"You gave Vale access to everything. Every name, every location, every detail about Vincent's operation. Congratulations, Bethany. You just became the most wanted woman in the city."
Her legs nearly gave out. "Lennox wouldn't—"
"Wouldn't what? Use you? Lie to you? Make you think he cared about you so you'd do exactly what he wanted?"
The truth hit her like a physical blow. All those months of watching her, protecting her. He hadn't been falling for her. He'd been studying her, learning exactly how to manipulate her.
"Move." Derek gestured with the gun toward the door. "Vincent's waiting."
"Derek, please. I was trying to escape an abusive marriage. That's all. I never meant for any of this—"
"You should have thought about that before you decided to play detective."
They were halfway down the stairs when her phone rang in Derek's pocket. He pulled it out and answered without looking at the caller ID.
"Well, well. Lennox Vale. I was wondering when you'd call."
Even from three feet away, Bethany could hear Lennox's voice, sharp with concern. "Where is she, Derek?"
"Safe. For now. But that depends entirely on you."
"Let her go. She was just trying to get away from you. She doesn't know anything about the investigation."
Derek laughed. "You're good, I'll give you that. Really had her convinced you were her white knight. But we both know what this was really about."
"I don't know what you mean."
"The Torrino case. How long have you been working it? Six months? A year? How long did it take you to realize that getting close to me was the fastest way to get inside Vincent's operation?"
Silence on the other end of the line.
"That's what I thought," Derek said. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to call your FBI friends and tell them you made a mistake. All that evidence? Inadmissible. All those raids? Bad intel. You're going to make this go away."
"And if I don't?"
Derek looked at Bethany with cold eyes. "Then your girlfriend learns exactly how Vincent Torrino deals with people who cost him money."
The line went quiet for so long that Bethany thought Lennox had hung up.
Finally, his voice came through, barely a whisper: "I need proof she's alive."
Derek held the phone toward Bethany. "Say something."
"Lennox?" Her voice cracked. "Don't do what he's asking. Don't—"
Derek yanked the phone away. "You have two hours. Make it happen, or she disappears forever."
He hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
"Now," Derek said, pressing the gun into her back. "Let's go see Vincent."