Chapter 8 - The Bail Hearing and the Mysterious Benefactor
The federal courthouse steps were swarmed with aggressive reporters shoving microphones and cameras toward my face as I walked out into the blinding morning sun.
My father remained locked in a secure federal holding facility, denied bail due to the gravity of the international money laundering charges leveled by Arthur Sterling.
I pulled my dark trench coat tighter around my shoulders, keeping my head down as flashbulbs popped like rapid-fire gunshots.
"Maya! Is it true your mother is the head of the syndicate?" shouted a reporter from the front row, thrusting a recorder toward my mouth.
I pushed past the barrier with the help of a court-appointed bailiff, sliding into the back seat of a nondescript black town car idling at the curb.
The door slammed shut behind me, plunging the interior into a cool, quiet sanctuary away from the media circus outside.
I exhaled a shaky breath, turning to thank the driver, but stopped short when I saw the silhouette of a woman sitting in the opposite corner of the spacious back seat.
She wore a wide-brimmed black hat and dark sunglasses, a silver silk scarf tied neatly around her neck, concealing most of her face.
"You handled yourself well under pressure, Maya," the woman said, her voice smooth, composed, and terribly familiar.
My heart hammered against my ribs as she slowly removed her sunglasses, turning her head to reveal striking amber eyes that matched my own in the vanity mirror.
"You’re supposed to be dead," I whispered, pressing my back against the leather upholstery as the town car pulled smoothly into traffic.
"Death is just a very convenient legal status when the federal government is hunting you," Elizabeth Vance replied with a faint, melancholic smile.
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"And now, my dear daughter, we have less than twelve hours to stop Arthur Sterling from transferring the foundation’s remaining assets to your mother’s greatest enemy."
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