Chapter 7
Z
It was a rainy Thursday evening in Manhattan. The rain lashed against the windows of the Crestwood Tower as I finished up my late-night review of the upcoming quarterly acquisition plans.
It had been four days since Dr. Reed revealed Paige’s conspiracy. Private investigators were scouring the city, but Paige had managed to stay completely off the grid. She was using cash, avoiding public transit with facial-recognition cameras, and sleeping in low-end motels that didn't ask for ID.
At 8:30 PM, I packed my leather briefcase and walked toward the private executive elevator. My personal bodyguard, Marcus—a broad-shouldered former Secret Service agent—stood beside me, his hand resting casually near his jacket where his sidearm was holstered.
"Car is waiting in the underground VIP parking garage, Ms. Crestwood," Marcus reported as the elevator descended. "Driver has already swept the vehicle. Everything is secure."
"Thank you, Marcus," I said, rubbing my temples. "I just want to go home and sleep."
The elevator chimed softly as it reached the basement level B2. The doors slid open to reveal the dimly lit, concrete parking garage. My black Maybach was idling near the central pillar, its headlights cutting through the damp shadows.
Marcus stepped out first, scanning the surrounding area with practiced precision. "Clear. Let's move."
We walked toward the car. The driver, Arthur, stepped out to open the rear door for me.
Suddenly, a sharp, metallic sound echoed from behind a concrete support beam twenty feet away.
Marcus reacted instantly, stepping in front of me and reaching into his jacket. "Ms. Crestwood, get back in the elevator!"
Before I could turn, a figure stepped out from behind the pillar.
It was Paige.
She was drenched from the rain outside, wearing an oversized black trench coat. Her blonde hair was matted to her face, and her eyes were wild, bloodshot, and wide with unhinged insanity.
In her right hand, she held a gun, pointed directly at my chest.
"Don't move!" Paige screamed, her voice echoing wildly in the underground garage. "Don't you fucking move or I'll blow her head off!"
Marcus drew his weapon instantly, aiming it straight at Paige’s core. "Drop the weapon! Put it down right now!"
Arthur, the driver, froze, slowly raising his hands.
"Paige," I said, forcing my voice to remain completely steady as I stepped slightly to the side of Marcus so I could look her in the eye. "Put the gun down. You're making things a hundred times worse for yourself."
"Worse?!" Paige let out a hysterical, bird-like laugh, her arm shaking violently as she aimed the barrel at me. "How could it be worse, Audrey?! Look at me! Look at what you did to me! I have nothing! The police are looking for me! My life is over!"
"You did this to yourself," I said coldly. "You paid a lab technician to fake Dominic’s fertility results. You manipulated a weak man to destroy his own family. You chose this path."
"He was supposed to leave you!" Paige yelled, tears mixing with the rainwater on her face. "You were just a boring, useless grey mouse! He was supposed to divorce you, marry me, and give me his company! But you... you had to be a secret heiress! You had to play the victim! You stole the life that was supposed to be mine!"
"It was never yours, Paige," I replied sternly. "Dominic was a fraud. The company was mine. The money was mine. You ruined your life for a phantom."
"Shut up!" Paige shrieked, her finger tightening on the trigger. "Shut your fucking mouth! If I can't have that life, you don't get to live yours! You killed my future, Audrey! Now I'm taking yours!"
"DROP THE GUN!" Marcus yelled, his voice like thunder.
Paige’s eyes snapped to Marcus, and in that split second of hesitation, her focus shifted.
BANG!
A deafening gun blast shattered the silence of the garage.
Paige fired wildly. The bullet slammed into the windshield of the Maybach behind me with a loud crack, shattering the reinforced glass into a web of white lines.
Instantly, Marcus fired back—a single, precise shot.
BANG!
The force of Marcus’s bullet struck Paige in the right shoulder. She let out a horrific scream, the gun flying from her hand and clattering across the wet concrete floor. She collapsed to her knees, clutching her bleeding shoulder as blood pooled out between her fingers.
Marcus rushed forward, kicking the gun far out of her reach and slamming Paige face-down onto the pavement, pinning her arms behind her back and snapping heavy steel handcuffs onto her wrists.
"Target secured!" Marcus barked into his shoulder radio. "Officer down, firing event at Crestwood Tower B2 garage! Call an ambulance and NYPD immediately!"
I stood there, frozen, staring at Paige as she sobbed and writhed on the cold concrete, bleeding into her wet trench coat.
She looked up at me through her matted hair, her face contorted in pain and defeat. "You... you bitch..." she wheezed.
I slowly walked over, stopping right above her. I looked down at the woman who had helped tear my life apart, who had tried to murder me in cold blood.
"You thought you were a player in this game, Paige," I said softly, my voice filled with icy pity. "But you were just another piece of trash Dominic brought into my home. And just like him, you’re going to spend the rest of your youth behind bars."
Five minutes later, the garage was flooded with red and blue flashing lights. Police officers, federal agents, and paramedics swarmed the area.
As Paige was loaded into the back of an armored ambulance under heavy police guard, Sophia arrived, panting as she ran through the crime scene tape.
"Audrey! Are you alright?!" Sophia gasped, grabbing my shoulders, checking me for injuries. "I heard there were shots fired!"
"I'm fine, Sophia," I said calmly, watching the ambulance doors slam shut on Paige. "It’s over."
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"Not quite," Sophia said, her expression turning deadly serious as she pulled a document from her coat. "Dominic just did something completely insane."
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