Chapter 7 - The Net Closes
Derek flinched, taking a sharp step backward when he saw me standing alone, calm and completely unafraid. Behind him, the hitman immediately reached into his jacket, his hand wrapping around the hilt of a long blade.
"Clara..." Derek quickly recovered, his fake smile returning. "Thank God you're safe! Where's Lily? Why are you alone? There's a dangerous man looking for you, come with me right now!"
"Are you really going to keep acting, Derek?" I looked him dead in the eye, my voice as cold as the winter rain. "Did you come to save me, or did you come to watch my body burn so you could collect your two million dollars?"
Derek's face instantly dropped. The false warmth vanished, replaced by the snarling expression of a cornered animal. He knew the mask was off.
"How long have you known?" Derek roared, abandoning all pretense. "You set me up! But it's too late, Clara. Out here in the middle of nowhere, nobody is coming to save you. Kill her!" he ordered the hitman.
The thug lunged forward, the silver blade gleaming in the dark.
"POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"
BANG!
A single, precise gunshot echoed through the cabin. The bullet struck the hitman’s hand, sending the knife clattering across the wooden floor. Instantly, high-intensity tactical spotlights shattered the darkness, blaring through every window. SWAT officers flooded the room from the front door and the cellar, tackling the hitman and slamming Derek face-first into the floor.
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"Get off me! You have no proof! I came to rescue my wife!" Derek screamed frantically, his face pressed against the dirty floorboards.
Marcus stepped out from the darkness, holding a mini digital audio recorder. "Every single word you said since you stepped onto the porch—including 'Kill her'—was broadcasted and recorded live to the police mainframe. Game over, Derek."
