Chapter 6 - The Phantom Extractor
The cinematic tension in the ruined studio completely shifted.
"Who are you?" Gabriel demanded, stepping toward the vault, his eyes scanning the millions of dollars in highly illegal, untraceable equipment.
"My name is Claire Donovan," I replied, tossing a heavy tactical vest to his security chief. "But the cartels you do business with know me as 'The Ghost.' I specialize in high-value asset extraction and secure laundering. I bought this studio three years ago because a dance floor is the perfect place to hide a reinforced subterranean bunker."
Gabriel stared at me, the profound realization completely blowing his mind. The woman he had been terrified of stepping on had successfully smuggled half the dark money in the Midwest right under his nose.
"Marcus thinks he has us trapped," I said, grabbing a sleek, suppressed rifle from the wall rack. "He doesn't know this building has a secondary, reinforced titanium shell."
I hit a red button on the control panel. Heavy, blast-proof steel shutters immediately slammed down over the shattered front windows and doors, completely sealing the studio in absolute darkness before the emergency lights flickered on.
Outside, Marcus roared in fury as his men began firing uselessly against the impenetrable steel.
"The tunnel leads directly to a secure garage two blocks away," I explained, gesturing for Rose to enter the vault. "I have an armored transport idling."
Gabriel didn't move immediately. He looked at me, a dark, incredibly attractive smirk slowly spreading across his hardened face.
"You told me I was holding a person, not controlling one," Gabriel said softly.
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"I meant it," I replied, chambering a round. "Now let's go finish your family business."
👉 We escaped the burning studio, but Gabriel’s vengeance against his uncle was about to be absolutely biblical.
