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In a gripping, relentlessly suspenseful new thriller from the #1 internationally bestselling author of TWENTY YEARS LATER, there’s no such thing as safe haven for a woman with a secret powerful enough to destroy the world’s most untouchable figures.
Dark secrets, dangerous threats, and jaw-dropping twists for readers of Riley Sager, Jeneva Rose, and Alex Michaelides.
Millions of readers click onto The Whitaker Report every day. Politics, crime, pop culture—Oliver Whitaker’s wildly popular website covers it all, breaking stories ahead of other news outlets. Ollie’s investigative skills have made him a media legend and a multimillionaire. But as the biggest story of Ollie’s life unfolds, his profession becomes deeply personal.
A cryptic last voicemail from his brother, Lucas, hinted at an explosive scandal. Lucas was tortured and murdered before Ollie could reach him, and now Ollie, too, is running for his life.
Piece by piece the explosive truth comes together—a sordid blackmail scheme involving Lucas’s billionaire employer and a missing flash drive that implicates dozens of rich and influential players. Ollie isn’t the only one being pursued by those who want that damning flash drive. So is Lucas’s fiancée, Andi Vonn, who’s been moved to a new town with a new identity to keep her safe until she can testify.
It may not be enough. As a frantic news media searches for answers and the FBI fights to protect its star witness, enemies are closing in. Ollie and Andi realize that neither can outrun this web of power and influence as a chilling reality settles in: there is no safe haven . . .
Publisher:
Kensington Books
Print pages:
68
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Andi Vonn’s eyes snapped open. Her sleeping mind heard the noise outside her home before her conscious mind was aware of it. The red glow from the bedside clock told her it was 1:00 a.m. A chill ran the length of her spine, begging for her attention. The vibrating phone on the nightstand rattled again, pulling her fully awake.
She reached for it. “Hello?”
“It’s me.” Lucas’s voice cracked, raw with panic. “Listen very carefully, Andi. Get out of the house right now. Don’t pack. Don’t wait. Get in your car and drive!”
His voice was shaky and panicked.
“Lucas? You’re scaring me.”
“Good. Be scared because people are coming for you. They’re on their way now. They know everything!”
Before she could speak another word, a crashing noise came through the phone followed by the echoing crack of a gunshot.
“Lucas?” She sat up in bed. “Lucas!”
No answer. The call died. Then glass shattered downstairs.
Andi’s heart gave a single sickening jolt that emptied her lungs. She swung her legs off the bed, bare feet hitting cold floorboards. She stood and crept into the hallway. From over the banister, she saw moonlight spilling across the foyer, illuminating a gloved hand reaching through the jagged hole in the window beside the front door. Fingers fumbled until they found the lock. Then the door burst open.
People are coming for you.
She backed into the bedroom, fear compressing her vision until the world narrowed to a tight, shaking tunnel. She stumbled into the bathroom, jammed her phone into the pocket of her pajama pants, and tore open the vanity drawers, desperate for anything that could pass as a weapon. All she found were nail scissors. They were sharp as sin but small. She had little faith they would protect her from whoever had come for her tonight.
Don’t wait.
Lucas’s words echoed through her head.
Don’t pack anything. Get in your car and drive!
Boots thudded against hardwood and then started up the stairs. She ran from the bathroom and pulled open the bedroom window. Icy air surged across the windowpane as she fumbled with the screen. When she couldn’t disengage it, she shouldered straight past the mesh. Barefoot, she stepped through the window frame and onto the roof. The cold shingles bit at her foot as she dipped through the open window. But she was too slow. The same gloved hand that had reached through the broken window clamped around her calf.
She screamed, and the shock transformed to power. She ripped her leg free and jackhammered her foot backward through the open window. Her heel connected squarely with the man’s nose. He roared with pain as cartilage cracked. She scrambled onto the roof. Adrenaline deadened the bite of the shingles and muted the cold as she fell forward onto her hands and crawled up the roof until the brick chimney rose in front of her. She dragged herself upright and leaned against it, chest heaving.
The moon washed the roof in a silver radiance. A moment later, a figure climbed out from the bedroom window. Moonlight carved out his silhouette and sparked a tarnished reflection off the gun in his right hand. Her breathing skidded out of control. The wheezing mixed with the cold fall night to produce a steamy white vapor that vanished into the night. She watched the man start up toward the chimney, his boots making easy work of the roof and the shingles that had caused her to slip and bleed.
She had only two options—fight or flight. Flight meant running down the slope of the roof and jumping. The home featured a walkout basement. She’d never survive the fifty-foot drop. That left only one choice. This decision took fractions of a second and was not influenced by logic or reason. Her mind went quiet as the blood and oxygen funneled to the muscles of her arms and legs—the parts of her body that would help her survive.
The man’s boots scraped closer. Andi heard the labored rasp from his broken nose and saw the fog of each breath as it curled around the chimney like steam from an approaching train. When she sensed his presence, Andi stepped around brick and met the man face-to-face. He startled just enough before starting to lift the gun. There was no hesitation to Andi’s movements. Her right hand gripped the scissors with the round finger holes embedded in her palm and the pointed end protruding from her fist. In a powerful side thrust, she buried the scissors into the man’s neck.
Blood spurted from the wound. Moonlight painted it a strange metallic blue. The gun slipped from the man’s grip and skidded across the shingles. He clawed at his throat. His fingers misdirected the blood flow but did nothing to stanch it. His eyes locked on her, wide with disbelief. Andi thrust her knee into his groin. His legs buckled and he fell backward, tumbling head over heels as he somersaulted down the roof and disappeared over the edge.
An instant later she heard a thud.
She placed her cheek against the cold brick of the chimney as she slowly lowered herself to her knees. Her phone vibrated from the pocket of her pajama pants, and she fished it out with numb fingers. The display announced an “Unknown Caller.” She lifted the phone to her ear. Her breaths were shallow and left her body in pale clouds that the cold night pulled away. Her voice was weak and gravelly when she spoke a throaty “hello.”
“This is Special Agent Cal Brixton with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. We believe your life is in danger and you need to leave your house immediately.”
Andi twisted and sat with her back against the chimney, staring into the dark where the man had fal. . .
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