The FBI approval came through seventy-two hours later.
Agent Chen called me at six in the morning, her voice tense. "We got the authorization. Blackwood can be released into FBI custody for forty-eight hours to retrieve the evidence. But there are conditions."
"What conditions?" I asked, already getting out of bed.
"He wears an ankle monitor. Two agents accompany him at all times. Any attempt to flee results in immediate re-arrest and additional charges. And most importantly—you don't go with him."
"What?" I said sharply. "That wasn't part of the deal."
"It is now," Chen said firmly. "My superiors are already nervous about this. They're not risking a civilian getting caught up in whatever happens down there. Blackwood goes with federal agents. You stay here with your daughter where it's safe."
"Safe?" I laughed bitterly. "Marcus Hart has been watching my house for months. He's threatened my baby. Nowhere is safe."
"Which is exactly why we need you here," Chen countered. "If something goes wrong in the Caymans, if Marcus makes a move while Blackwood is gone, we need you protected. Your daughter needs you."
She was right, and I hated it.
"Fine," I said. "But I want updates every six hours. And if anything goes wrong—"
"You'll be the first to know," Chen promised. "We're moving fast on this. Blackwood gets released tomorrow morning. We fly out immediately. With any luck, we'll be back with the evidence within thirty-six hours."
After hanging up, I went to check on Sofia. She was sleeping peacefully, her tiny fists curled against her chest. Elena had moved into the room next to the nursery, refusing to leave Sofia's side after learning about Marcus's threats.
"You should get some sleep," Elena said softly from the doorway.
"I can't," I admitted. "Every time I close my eyes, I see that video of Sofia sleeping. I see Marcus's face when he threatened her."
Elena came to stand beside me, both of us looking down at the baby. "Damien called me last night. From prison."
I turned to her in surprise. "What did he say?"
"He wanted to make sure I understood the security protocols. He wanted to know that Sofia would be protected while he's gone." Elena's voice softened. "He loves her, Sophia. Despite everything he's done, despite all his crimes—he loves that baby girl."
"I know," I said quietly. "That's what makes this so complicated. He's a criminal who destroyed lives, but he's also Sofia's father. How do I reconcile those two things?"
"Maybe you don't," Elena suggested. "Maybe you just accept that people are complicated. That someone can be both terrible and good. Both destructive and loving."
"Is that what you did?" I asked. "When you learned what Damien had done to avenge you?"
Elena was quiet for a long moment. "I was horrified when I found out. All those lives destroyed, all that pain—and he did it because of what happened to me. It made me feel responsible in a way I never wanted to feel."
"But?" I prompted.
"But I also understood," Elena admitted. "Not the methods. Not the cruelty. But the rage, the desperate need for justice when the system failed you—I understood that. Because I felt it too after your father destroyed me."
She turned to face me. "The difference is, I chose to heal instead of seeking revenge. Damien chose differently. And now he has to live with those choices for the rest of his life."
---
The next morning, I watched through a video feed as Damien was released from federal detention.
He looked strange in civilian clothes after weeks in prison jumpsuits. Two federal agents flanked him, and a visible ankle monitor wrapped around his left leg. His hands were cuffed in front of him until they reached the waiting SUV.
Agent Chen had set up a command center in my home office, with multiple monitors showing different angles of the operation. I sat beside her, my coffee untouched, as we watched Damien being loaded into the vehicle.
"The flight leaves in two hours," Chen explained. "They'll arrive in the Caymans by early afternoon local time. The bank has been notified that a federal investigation is underway, but we haven't disclosed which box we're accessing. We don't want to give Marcus any advance warning."
"Do you think he already knows?" I asked.
"Probably," Chen said grimly. "He's had surveillance on this house for months. Even though we've swept for bugs, he might have other sources. Someone in my office, someone at the detention center—we don't know the extent of his network."
"So we're walking into a trap," I said.
"Possibly," Chen admitted. "Which is why we're going in heavy. Four agents, local law enforcement on standby, secured transportation. If Marcus tries anything, we'll be ready."
I hoped she was right.
---
Six hours later, I got the first update.
"They've landed," Chen said, pointing to her tablet. "No incidents on the flight. They're en route to the bank now."
I watched the GPS coordinates move across the screen, tracking Damien's ankle monitor. My heart pounded with each update.
Thirty minutes later: "They're at the bank. Going inside now."
I stared at the screen, willing it to update faster.
Then my phone rang. Unknown number.
"Don't answer it," Chen said immediately.
But I already knew who it was. I put it on speaker.
"Hello, Sophia," Marcus Hart's smooth voice filled the room. "I hope you're enjoying the show."
Chen immediately started tracing the call while I kept him talking. "What do you want, Marcus?"
"What I've always wanted," he said. "The Hart Empire. But I'll settle for watching your husband fail spectacularly at his little evidence retrieval mission."
My blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?"
"Did you really think I didn't know about that safety deposit box?" Marcus laughed. "I've known about it for years. I've just been waiting for the right moment to use that knowledge."
"You're bluffing," I said, but my voice shook.
"Am I? Tell me, Sophia—do you remember that fire at the Grand Cayman banking center three months ago? Terrible tragedy. Several safety deposit boxes were destroyed in the blaze."
No. No, no, no.
"You're lying," I said desperately.
"Check with your FBI friend," Marcus said pleasantly. "I'll wait."
Chen was already typing frantically on her laptop. Her face went pale as she read something on the screen.
"There was a fire," she confirmed quietly. "March 15th. Extensive damage to the vault area."
"But the box—" I started.
"Might still be there," Marcus interrupted, having clearly overheard. "Might be destroyed. Might be full of evidence against me. Or—" his voice turned cold, "—it might be full of evidence I planted specifically for this moment. Evidence that makes Damien look even worse. Evidence that implicates you as his knowing accomplice."
"You can't—"
"I can do anything I want," Marcus said. "I've been planning this for twenty years, Sophia. Every contingency, every possibility. You think your desperate husband retrieving some documents is going to stop me? You think the FBI is going to save you?"
"What do you want?" I asked again, my voice breaking.
"I want you to testify at your father's hearing next week," Marcus said. "I want you to tell the court that Damien Blackwood fabricated all the evidence against Richard Hart. I want you to help me free your father and take control of the Hart Empire. And in exchange, I'll leave your daughter alone."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then when Damien opens that box in—" I heard him checking his watch, "—approximately eight minutes, he's going to find evidence that destroys what's left of both your lives. Evidence that will send you to prison as his accomplice. Evidence that will result in Sofia being taken by child protective services and placed in foster care."
"You're a monster," I whispered.
"I'm a businessman," Marcus corrected. "I'm just eliminating the competition. Eight minutes, Sophia. Eight minutes to decide: cooperate, or lose everything."
He hung up.
I stared at Chen in panic. "Can we warn them? Can we stop Damien from opening the box?"
"I'm trying," Chen said, already on her radio. "Agent Torres, do you copy? This is Agent Chen. Abort the retrieval. I repeat, abort—"
Static filled the radio.
"They're inside the bank vault," Chen said grimly. "Reinforced walls. Radio signal is blocked."
I watched the GPS coordinates on the screen, showing Damien's ankle monitor stationary inside the bank. He was in the vault. He was probably already opening the box.
And we had no way to warn him.
---
Seven minutes later, Chen's phone rang. She answered immediately. "Torres, report."
I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but I watched Chen's face go from tense to shocked to devastated.
"Understood," she said finally. "Secure the area. We're coming down."
She hung up and looked at me with an expression I couldn't read.
"What happened?" I demanded. "Is Damien okay?"
"Damien's fine," Chen said. "But the box—" She paused. "Sophia, the box was empty."
"Empty?" I repeated. "But Damien said—"
"Either he lied, or someone got there first," Chen said. "But there's more. When they opened the box, it triggered a silent alarm. Within minutes, Cayman police arrived with a warrant for Damien's arrest."
"For what?" I asked, though I already knew.
"Fraud, money laundering, and illegal access to banking records," Chen listed. "Someone filed a complaint claiming Damien was using a false identity to access accounts connected to criminal enterprises. The warrant was issued two days ago."
Two days ago. Before we'd even requested his release.
Marcus had known. He'd known about the plan before we'd even made it.
"What happens now?" I asked quietly.
"Now, Damien gets arrested by local authorities," Chen said. "We can fight extradition, but it could take weeks. Maybe months. And in the meantime—"
"In the meantime, Marcus Hart wins," I finished.
Chen didn't argue.
My phone rang again. Marcus.
This time, I answered immediately. "You set this up."
"Of course I did," Marcus said pleasantly. "I've been setting this up for months. The fire, the warrant, the complaint—all of it. I knew Damien would eventually try to retrieve that evidence. I just had to make sure it wouldn't be there when he did."
"Where is it?" I demanded. "Where's the real evidence?"
"Safe," Marcus said. "Very safe. And it'll stay safe as long as you cooperate. So here's what's going to happen, Sophia. You're going to testify at your father's hearing. You're going to help me take control of the Hart Empire. And you're going to do it with a smile on your face."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I release the evidence," Marcus said. "Not to the FBI. Not to the courts. But to the media. Every dirty secret Damien kept. Every crime he committed. Every life he destroyed. And your name will be all over it. The wife who helped him. The accomplice who benefited from his crimes."
"I didn't—"
"Doesn't matter," Marcus interrupted. "By the time I'm done, the entire world will believe you did. You'll be convicted in the court of public opinion long before any criminal trial. And Sofia—sweet, innocent Sofia—will be known as the daughter of two monsters."
Tears streamed down my face. "Please. She's just a baby."
"Then protect her," Marcus said coldly. "Testify. Cooperate. Give me what I want. Or watch everything you love burn."
He hung up.
I sat in my office, surrounded by FBI agents and technology, supposedly protected—and I'd never felt more helpless.
Marcus had won.
He'd manipulated Damien for fifteen years. He'd destroyed my family. He'd threatened my daughter. And now he'd trapped me in a corner where every choice led to devastation.
"Sophia," Chen said gently. "We can still fight this. We can—"
"How?" I asked, looking at her with dead eyes. "He's thought of everything. He's always ten steps ahead. How do we fight someone like that?"
"I don't know," Chen admitted. "But we'll figure it out."
I looked at the monitor showing Damien in handcuffs in a Cayman Islands police station, three thousand miles away and completely unreachable.
Then I looked at the nursery monitor, showing Sofia sleeping peacefully, unaware that her mother was about to make an impossible choice.
Protect my daughter by helping a monster.
Or fight for justice and risk losing everything.
There was no good answer.
Only different shades of destruction.