*You think you won, Natalie? You have nothing. We’re taking what’s ours.*

It was Julian.

I deleted the message and stared out at the concrete barriers passing by.

The air conditioning in the SUV hummed, blowing cold air against my face.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

“A federal holding facility near downtown,” Harris said. “It has secure residential suites.”

“And Victoria?” I asked.

“She is being monitored,” he said. “Her lawyers are already calling our office, but she cannot leave the estate.”

“She will try to burn the evidence,” I said.

“We have her servers mirrored,” Harris said. “Thanks to the files you copied.”

Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the underground parking garage of the federal building.

The air down there smelled of damp concrete and car exhaust.

Harris opened my door and escorted me to a private elevator.

We bypassed the main floors, stopping at a secure level with no signs on the doors.

The hallway was quiet, carpeted in industrial grey, lit by humming fluorescent tubes.

He led me into a small conference room.