Chapter 8 - Treason in the Ranks
By Friday night, the walls were closing in on Brynn Walker.
The FBI had frozen her secondary accounts. Her designer wardrobe was being audited as illicitly obtained assets, and her landlord had served her a forty-eight-hour eviction notice after Cedarline pulled the corporate guarantee on her luxury condo.
Sitting in a cramped, noisy diner on the south side of town, Brynn nervously tapped her fingernails against the laminate table. Sitting across from her was Naomi.
"You have twenty minutes before I walk out of here," Naomi said, checking her watch.
"I have everything," Brynn whispered frantically, sliding an encrypted flash drive across the table. "Every email Trent sent me. The fake invoices he forged using Apex’s digital signature stamps. The offshore routing numbers. Darlene was the one who came up with the shell corporation idea—she wanted the money funneled through her family name so Laurel’s accountants wouldn't flag it."
Naomi picked up the drive with a napkin, not even bothering to touch it directly. "And why are you handing this over now, Miss Walker?"
"Because Trent is insane!" Brynn hissed, her eyes wide with terror. "He thinks he can fight this in court! He told me this morning that he’s going to claim Laurel was mentally unstable due to postpartum depression and try to get custody of the Montgomery estate through the baby! He wants to use the baby as a bargaining chip!"
Naomi’s expression hardened into pure iron. "Does he?"
"Yes! He said if he controls the child, he controls the trust fund payouts!" Brynn leaned forward, trembling. "Please, tell Laurel to leave me out of the federal indictment. I’ll testify against Trent. I’ll testify against his mother. Just don't let me go to prison!"
"You should have thought about prison before you climbed into another woman's bed five days after her surgery," Naomi said, rising from the booth. "The United States Attorney will review your cooperation. But make no mistake: you will return every single diamond, every handbag, and every penny of that stolen seven million."
Meanwhile, Trent was waiting for Brynn in their cheap motel room on the outskirts of the city. When he heard the door unlock, he jumped up, expecting her to bring dinner.
"Where were you?" Trent demanded, noticing her empty hands and frantic expression.
"Pack your bags, Trent," Brynn said coldly, pulling her suitcase from under the bed.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"It’s over," Brynn said, throwing her clothes haphazardly into her bag. "I’m not going down for your stupidity. Laurel isn't a victim, Trent. She’s an apex predator, and you walked right into her jaws. I made a deal with her attorneys."
Trent’s face went white, then mottled with fury. He lunged forward, grabbing her arm. "You did what?! You betrayed me?! After everything I gave you?!"
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"You didn't give me anything!" Brynn screamed, ripping her arm away and slapping him across the face. "You gave me *her* money! You’re a fraud, Trent! A penniless, arrogant little fraud!"
Before Trent could retaliate, the motel door was kicked inward with a deafening crash.
