Behind him, through the car window, I could see the terminal lights of Midway Airport.

“But you forgot one thing,” Marcus said, leaning closer to his camera.

The camera tilted down slightly.

In the passenger seat beside him sat a man holding a black briefcase.

On the briefcase was a digital timer, glowing red, counting down from five minutes.

“The server room at Romano Holdings has a little gift left behind by my associates,” Marcus laughed. “You freeze those accounts, and my friend here presses the button.”

“Marcus, don’t,” I gasped, my hand freezing over the keyboard.

“The choice is yours, Emily,” he said. “Let me fly, or let your precious Adrian’s empire burn.”

The timer on the briefcase ticked down to four minutes and fifty seconds.

Adrian did not flinch.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his black sleek phone.

His thumb moved quickly over the screen, his face expressionless under the harsh fluorescent lights of the office.

On my desk, the video call hummed with static.

Marcus sneered, his eyes bloodshot, his face reflecting the blue light of his own device.