“The shareholders will see you as vulnerable.”

“I don’t care about the shareholders anymore,” he said.

“I care about my sons. I care about you.”

Before I could answer, my phone began to ring.

The screen lit up with an incoming call from a Chicago area code.

It was my sister, Clara, who was watching the boys back at my apartment.

I pressed the receiver to my ear, a sudden dread pooling in my stomach.

“Clara? Is everything okay?”

“Emma,” Clara’s voice came through, sounding panicked and breathless.

“There are reporters outside the building. Two news vans just parked on the street.”

“Are the boys inside?” I asked quickly, my voice rising.

“Yes, the blinds are drawn, but they’re scared,” she said.

“Someone just knocked on the door claiming to be from the city water department, but he had a camera under his coat.”

I looked at Blake, my eyes wide with fear.

“They’re already at my apartment,” I whispered to him.

Blake took the phone from my hand.

“Clara, this is Blake,” he said, his voice commanding and clear.

“Keep the door locked. Do not answer any knocks.”