“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just a friendly warning,” he said. “The wheels of justice turn very slowly. But sometimes, they can move very fast when the right leverage is applied. Tell Ryker he should have stayed in his lane.”

The call ended.

I stared at the screen, a sense of dread washing over me.

“Tessa!” Ryker’s voice echoed down the stairs.

I ran back up the spiral staircase, my heels clicking against the stone.

When I reached the study, Ryker was standing by the window, his phone in his hand.

The intruder was gone, likely moved to another room by the secondary security team.

“What is it?” I asked, breathless.

“Marco just called,” Ryker said, his voice tight. “He’s at the gate. But he’s not alone.”

I walked over to the window.

Through the rain, I could see headlights winding up the long driveway.

But it wasn’t the delivery van Marco had stolen.

It was a line of black-and-white police cruisers, their red and blue lights flashing silently against the wet trees.

“They’re here,” I whispered.

“They aren’t here for Marco,” Ryker said.