Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Oh, I see. So even though you put whatever into the Vault, in this case millions of dollars, it’s not a sure thing that you’ll get it back out.”
“No. You will absolutely get it back, it’s yours, but the when is the issue. The Vault isn’t going to send someone with a briefcase full of money to some scary-ass rendezvous point where both you and the courier will be murdered. They’re going to wire it somewhere, but everyone in the scenario, both you and them, need to be safe.”
“So since Voss and his wife are both on the run, whoever at the Vault said nope, they’re much more likely to lose their money in that situation.”
“Correct. The Vault said you’re not getting the money at this time. You can send it to someone else, but not you, since you’re a wanted fugitive.”
“I don’t think they should get a say.”
“But think how safe most people feel. Say you’re a cartel boss and you want the money to go to your family, but you’re killed. You’ll die knowing that they will be provided for.”
“Are we on the side of cartel bosses?”
“They have families too,” I pointed out.
“Okay, so whatever you put in is safe with the Vault, but apparently the Vosses had no one like siblings or parents or best friends that they trusted enough to have the money wired to.”
“Which is kinda sad if you think about it, but there’s also the question of everyone thinking that Voss killed Carrie, and they’d have to blow their cover and have whoever realize they’re on the run. At which point, how safe is it to get involved with all that?”
“Right. Okay. I get it. But I still don’t understand why the Vosses came after you?”
“Originally, on the secure site, Voss got a message in his account that his money had been accepted into the Vault, and if he had any questions or concerns, he should speak to Conrad Harris, and he was given an email.”
“Which he used to ask for his funds back.”
“Yes.”
“And was told no.”
“Correct.”
“Conrad Harris is the man in charge.”
“To everyone else, yes. You know that he’s actually Darius Hawthorne, because my boss told you in confidence, but to users of the Vault, it’s just a name.”
“Okay.”
“But if you hunt on the dark web, which Voss uses because he’s shady as shit, him and his boss, Rhodes, he found that Conrad Harris links to Terrence Moss and Darius Hawthorne.”
“Right.”
“And if you search up associates of Darius Hawthorne, among many is Jared Colter, owner of Torus Intercession, based out of Chicago, and Torus International, headquartered in Paris.”
“Yeah, but I still don’t––”
“Torus Intercession is trending on the internet at the moment because everyone is reporting on me because I’m here with you.”
“So this is all my fault.”
I squinted at him. “Dial back the guilt, willya?”
“No, I––”
“You’re a celebrity. People want to know what’s going on with you, especially when a new guy suddenly pops up and it looks pretty hot and heavy in pictures.”
“It is hot and heavy,” he snapped at me.
“Don’t sound so happy about it,” I grumbled.
“That is not—could you just finish, please?”
“So, just like everyone else, it’s easy to go to the Torus website and find Jared Colter, and easier still to look up his employees. Even better, there’s a picture of me, and voilà, there I am, the new man in Ashford Lennox’s life.”
“I hate this.”
“You have no privacy as a public figure. You know that.”
“I do, but it’s never almost gotten someone I love killed before.”
I let the love part go. This was not the time to point out that he’d just used a huge word like it was normal. “No one was almost anything, but once they found me, all they had to do was look you up, and there you are in Maine, attending a wedding at the Castine Harbor Inn.”
“The internet will be the death of us all,” Ash stated.
I scoffed. “That’s dramatic.”
His scowl was instant. “It’s true.”
“When the machines rise, you mean?” I asked innocently.
Pulling the throw pillow from behind my back, he whacked me in the face with it until I curled up into a ball laughing.
“You understand that she could have shot you,” he yelled at me.
“She needed me,” I told him, uncurling and looking up at him. “Her plan was to have me call Jared and then have Jared call Darius. As plans go, not horrible, especially with a ten-million-dollar payday at stake.”
He fell down onto the bed, facing me, and pushed my hair out of my face. “I was terrified that she was going to kill you.”
“You hit her in the face with a foam bat,” I reminded him, grinning. “You were great under pressure.”
He stared at me, saying nothing.
“Hello?”
“I’ve decided something.”
“And what is that?”
“I don’t want to stay here for the wedding. I want to leave in the morning and—”