Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF TOMORROW
The attack lasted four minutes.
To Khloe, it felt like an hour.
When the estate lights returned, three windows were shattered and one security vehicle was burning near the east gate.
Vincent was alive.
Khloe discovered that when he walked through the front door with blood on his white shirt.
She ran toward him.
Then stopped.
“Are you hurt?”
“Not mine.”
Her relief was so powerful it became anger.
She slapped his chest.
Vincent blinked.
“What was that?”
“You left.”
“I was being shot at.”
“Exactly.”
“Would you have preferred I stay near you while someone shot at me?”
“I would have preferred you not say something incredibly romantic and then walk into gunfire!”
Gabriel slowly backed out of the room.
Vincent stared at her.
“Incredibly romantic?”
“That is not the relevant part.”
“I disagree.”
Khloe's face turned red.
Vincent's mouth twitched.
Then she hugged him.
The movement surprised both of them.
For a second Vincent didn't move.
Then his arms closed around her.
Tightly.
Khloe pressed her face against his chest.
His heartbeat was hard and fast.
So was hers.
“Don't do that again,” she whispered.
“I'll put it on my calendar.”
She laughed against him.
That night changed something.
Neither named it.
There was no kiss.
No declaration.
But Khloe stopped calling him Mr. Costa.
And Vincent stopped pretending she was merely an employee.
The following morning brought worse news.
Judge Holloway had disappeared.
Federal agents raided his residence.
Empty.
His accounts had been drained.
His private aircraft remained grounded, meaning he was likely still in the country.
Then Rebecca Sloan found the leak.
Her deputy, Martin Kessler.
He had warned Holloway about the ledger.
Kessler was arrested.
Under questioning, he revealed Holloway's final plan.
Destroy the original ledger.
Kill Vincent.
Frame Costa Logistics for a bombing at the harbor.
The bombing would eliminate evidence and several federal witnesses simultaneously.
The target was Warehouse C.
The same warehouse Khloe had seen Daniel and Holloway using months earlier.
The attack was scheduled for the following evening.
Sloan ordered the harbor evacuated quietly.
Vincent wanted Khloe moved out of state.
This time she agreed.
Not because he commanded it.
Because Diane was waiting at a secure location in Wisconsin.
At sunset, Vincent drove Khloe to the federal convoy.
She stood beside the car.
Neither knew how to say goodbye.
“When this is finished,” Vincent said, “I want you to resign.”
Khloe stared.
“What?”
“From Costa Logistics.”
Her expression hardened.
“You're firing me?”
“No.”
“That sounds remarkably like firing.”
“I can't be your employer anymore.”
Pain flashed across her face.
Vincent stepped closer.
“Because I want to ask you to dinner.”
Khloe stopped.
“And I don't want there to be a salary attached to your answer.”
She stared at him.
Then laughed softly.
“You are unbelievably strange.”
“Is that a yes?”
“You haven't asked yet.”
Vincent took a breath.
“Khloe Evans, when this is over, will you have dinner with me?”
She pretended to consider it.
“One dinner.”
“One.”
“Somewhere without armed guards.”
“That may be difficult.”
“Vincent.”
“Fine.”
“And no restaurant you own.”
“That's discriminatory.”
She smiled.
Then her eyes filled.
“Come back.”
He touched her cheek.
“I'll try.”
“Don't try.”
Her voice broke.
“Come back.”
Vincent leaned forward.
His forehead rested against hers.
“I will.”
He did not kiss her.
Somehow that made the moment more intimate.
Then Khloe entered the convoy.
Vincent watched until the taillights disappeared.
Two hours later, the convoy never reached Wisconsin.
Gabriel received the call first.
One federal SUV had been found abandoned beside Interstate 94.
The driver was unconscious.
Another agent was missing.
So was Khloe.
Vincent listened without moving.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Holloway's voice came through.
“You took my future, Mr. Costa.”
Vincent's blood turned cold.
“So I've taken yours.”
A muffled sound followed.
Then Khloe's voice.
“Vincent—”
The line cut.
Vincent closed his eyes.
Every violent instinct he had spent days trying to bury came roaring back.
Gabriel watched him.
“What do we do?”
Vincent opened his eyes.
They were terrifyingly calm.
“We bring her home.”
Gabriel nodded.
“And Holloway?”
Vincent looked at the dark highway.
For years, his answer would have been simple.
Kill him.
May you like
Khloe had changed the answer.
“We make sure he lives long enough to lose everything.”
