Adrian’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white.

“They were compromised too,” Adrian said.

My phone suddenly vibrated in my palm.

An incoming call from an unknown Chicago number appeared on the screen.

I looked at Adrian.

“Answer it,” he said.

I pressed the button and put the phone to my ear.

“Emily,” a smooth, familiar voice said through the speaker. “You really should stop trying to access the network.”

It was Arthur Vance.

“Arthur,” I said, my voice shaking. “We have the files. We know what you did.”

“You have nothing,” Arthur said, a faint typing sound audible in the background. “In five minutes, Romano Holdings will be ours, and you will be out of a job. And out of time.”

Before I could answer, a loud beep echoed from my phone screen.

The deletion progress bar jumped to thirty percent.

Then, the dashboard display of the SUV flickered.

The digital map vanished, replaced by a flashing red warning.

*Engine system error. Shutting down.*

The accelerator went limp under Adrian’s foot, and the heavy vehicle began to lose speed, coasting to a halt in the middle of the dark, tree-lined road.