The tension within the Harris estate was tangible, the kind that seeped into the walls and clung to every unsaid word. Joan slammed into her bedroom, her heart pounding so loudly it deafened her to all rational thought. She could still hear the resonance of her father's mocking laughter in her ears, a sound that caused her to shudder violently down her spine.
He thought he had won.
He thought she would break.
He was mistaken.
Joan grabbed her phone and dialed Alex's number. He answered on the first ring.
"Are you okay?" His voice was tense with concern.
"No," she admitted. "But I will be. We need to act fast. My father doesn't respond well to threats. He's going to try to shut us up before we can expose him."
"Then we don't give him that chance," Alex said. "Meet me in an hour. We need to plan."
Joan exhaled slowly, nodding to herself.
It was time to end this game.
A Mother's Plea
Mrs. Harris intercepted Joan minutes from departure.
"You're making a mistake, Joan," her mother warned, coming into her room with an expression Joan had never truly seen before—sorrow with a hint of fear.
"No, Mom," Joan said, her voice steadier than she felt. "The error was in letting Dad dictate my life for this long. I won't do that any longer."
Mrs. Harris hesitated, twisting her hands. "You don't know what he's like. Your father isn't a man who loses graciously."
Joan's chin clenched. "Then he's in for his first loss."
Her mother sighed, stepping closer and taking Joan's hands.
"I won't stop you, but I want you to promise me something," she begged.
"What?"
"Be careful. I don't want to lose you too."
Joan relented, squeezing her mother's hands. "I will, Mom. I promise."
And with that, she was gone.
The Secret Meeting
Joan showed up at Alex's apartment an hour later, where Albert and Chelsea were waiting.
"We have to move quickly," Albert said, tossing a folder onto the coffee table. "Dad is already on the phone. He knows we've got something on him."
Joan opened the folder and flipped through the contents. Financial records. Bribes. A paper trail of covered-up scandals.
"This is enough to ruin him," Chelsea whispered.
"But we need the right platform to publish it," Alex added. "We can't just put it out on the internet. He'll have it covered up before it has a chance to gain traction."
"I have a contact in the press," Albert offered. "A journalist who's been trying to take him down for years. If we turn this over to her, she'll make sure the whole world knows."
Joan nodded. "Do it."
"There's a problem," Chelsea said.
"What?
"Davis. He will not allow this to take place without a fight."
Joan's stomach constricted.
Her own brother. The very idea of going against him made her heart hurt, but she knew there was no alternative.
"Then we prepare for war."
The Betrayal
Davis stood outside, hearing every word from where he hid himself by the door.
His blood seethed.
They thought they could outsmart him?
He'd been loyal to their father his whole life, but this. This was personal. Joan had given him no choice.
He reached for his phone and dialed.
"Dad, we've got a situation," he whispered. "And I have just the way to take care of it."
An Unexpected Ambush
Joan and Alex were on their way out to meet Albert's contact when the ambush came.
The black SUV appeared out of nowhere, cutting them off at an intersection. Masked men were upon them before Joan could even respond, circling their car.
"Stay in the car!" Alex shouted, but Joan was already reaching for her phone.
Her door was yanked open by one of the men, who seized her arm.
"Let go of me!" she screamed, attempting to struggle against his grasp.
Alex launched himself at the man, punching. But there were too many of them.
Joan had a rough cloth slapped over her face—a sickly sweet odor filling her nostrils.
And then everything went black.
Captured
Joan woke to the feeling of cold metal around her wrists. Her head throbbed as she blinked, trying to see.
She was in a warehouse. Tied to a chair.
Alex was next to her, out cold but breathing.
A slow clap echoed through the room.
"You never learn, do you?"
Joan's blood ran cold.
Davis stepped into the light, smiling.
"Davis," she spat. "You did this?"
"Of course," he said, kneeling in front of her. "I warned you, Joan. But you just had to push, didn't you?"
She glared at him. "You're on the wrong side of this. Our father isn't a good man."
"Perhaps not," Davis admitted. "But he's powerful. And in this world, power prevails."
Joan shook her head. "You don't have to be his puppet."
Davis's face contorted, for a fleeting instant.
Then he braced himself.
"It's too late for that."
He spoke to one of the masked men.
"See that they don't leave this place alive."
A Desperate Escape
The instant Davis had left, Joan began attempting to wriggle free of her bonds.
Alex groaned, stirring to life beside her.
"Alex!" she whispered. "Wake up!"
His eyes fluttered open. "What… happened?"
"Davis. He set us up. We need to get out of here, now."
Joan glanced around, noticing a knife that had been left on a table beside her.
She stretched out her legs, knocking the table. The knife inched closer.
"Come on… " she whispered.
With one final bump, the knife dropped into her hands. She writhed, slashing at the ropes that tied her wrists.
The door creaked open.
Joan sliced faster.
A masked man entered, advancing on them.
Finally, the ropes snapped.
Joan plunged forward, grabbing the knife and thrusting upwards.
The man leapt back, cursing.
Alex overturned his chair, rolling onto his feet. Together they fought their way to the door, adrenaline powering every move.
Bursting into the cool night air, Joan gulped in deep breaths.
They were not yet safe.
"Come on!" Alex grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the road.
A car skidded to a halt.
The window rolled down.
"Get in!"
Albert.
They didn't waste any time jumping in.
As the car sped away, Joan turned back, locking eyes with Davis as he stood in the warehouse doorway, his face twisted in anger.
This wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.