Chapter 17: I Know Where She Sleeps

The photo on Jennifer’s phone felt like a cold hand on her throat.  

Geneva safe house. 3:17 AM. Shot from the tree line, zoomed in on the second-floor window. Her window. The curtains were drawn, but the outline of her silhouette was faint against the lamp inside.  

*I know where she sleeps.*  

David read the message over her shoulder and went still. The kind of still that came before violence.  

“Move,” he said. “Now.”  

Ms. Okoro was already on the phone with Interpol. “We need extraction in 90 seconds. Location’s compromised.”  

Marcus was shouting into his comms, “Lock down the perimeter! I want eyes on every tree line, now!”  

Jennifer didn’t argue. Arguing got people killed in Ravenna’s game. She grabbed Mara’s hand and pulled her toward the back exit.  

“Where are we going?” Mara asked, clutching her daughter.  

“Anywhere she doesn’t know,” David said.  

They moved fast through the service corridor, guns out, lights off. The chalet had three exits. Only one was safe now.  

The back door exploded outward before they reached it.  

Glass and wood sprayed across the hallway.  

“Down!” Marcus yelled, tackling Jennifer to the ground.  

Gunfire cracked through the night.  

David fired back, dragging Jennifer behind a concrete pillar. “They’re using suppressors. Professionals.”  

Ms. Okoro dragged Mara and her daughter toward the wine cellar. “This way! It leads to the tunnels!”  

Jennifer’s ears rang. She fired two shots toward the doorway, then crawled forward.  

“Where’s Ravenna?” she asked David between breaths.  

“Watching,” he said. “She never gets her hands dirty.”  

Another explosion. This one closer.  

The ceiling above them cracked.  

“We can’t hold here,” Marcus said. “Tunnel, now!”  

They ran.  

The tunnel was damp, narrow, smelling of old wine and mildew. It sloped downward into the mountain, lit only by emergency LEDs every twenty meters.  

Behind them, shouts. English with an Eastern European accent. Ravenna didn’t hire amateurs.  

David pulled Jennifer ahead of him. “Stay behind me. Don’t stop.”  

“What about you?” she asked.  

“If they get through me, you run,” he said. “No argument.”  

Jennifer swallowed the protest. There wasn’t time.  

They ran for seven minutes. Seven minutes of footsteps, heavy breathing, and the sound of gunfire echoing behind them.  

Then the tunnel opened into a small concrete room.  

A car waited. Old, unmarked, keys in the ignition.  

Marcus exhaled. “Pre-staged. Good.”  

They piled in. Marcus drove. David sat shotgun, gun still raised toward the tunnel entrance.  

As they pulled out onto a dirt road, Jennifer looked back.  

Flames licked out of the chalet’s roof.  

Ravenna had decided the safe house was expendable.  

“Is Mara okay?” Jennifer asked.  

In the back seat, Mara nodded, holding her daughter. “We’re fine. Thank you.”  

David didn’t relax. “They’ll track the car. We need to ditch it in 10 minutes.”  

Jennifer stared at her phone. The photo was still there.  

*I know where she sleeps.*  

“She wants me scared,” Jennifer said quietly. “She wants me to make a mistake.”  

David turned to her. “Don’t give it to her.”  

“I’m not,” Jennifer said. “But I’m tired of running.”  

David’s jaw clenched. “Then we stop running.”  

Marcus pulled the car into a public parking garage in downtown Geneva. Crowded, cameras everywhere, too many exits to block.  

They split up.  

Jennifer, David, and Mara went out the pedestrian exit into the rain. Geneva at 4 AM was empty and cold.  

“Where now?” Jennifer asked.  

David’s phone buzzed.  

He looked at it and cursed.  

“What?” Jennifer asked.  

“Interpol got into Kessler’s tablet,” David said. “Ravenna’s next move is scheduled for 8 AM. Location: Benz Holdings HQ.”  

Jennifer stopped walking.  

“She’s going after the company directly?” she asked.  

“No,” David said. “She’s going after you.”  

The message on the screen was simple.  

*Board meeting. 8 AM. Public. Come alone. Or I release the video.*  

Jennifer felt cold.  

“What video?” she asked.  

David showed her.  

It was CCTV footage. Her, entering the safe house the night Mara was taken.  

And in the background, Mara’s daughter.  

Ravenna had been there. She’d been close enough to film.  

“She’ll claim you endangered a minor,” David said. “Child endangerment charges. Custody hearing. It’ll destroy you publicly.”  

Jennifer’s hands shook.  

“Come alone,” she repeated. “She wants me without protection.”  

David grabbed her arm. “You’re not going alone.”  

“I have to,” Jennifer said. “If she releases that, Mara loses her daughter. I won’t let that happen.”  

Mara stepped forward. “No. I’ll go with you. It’s my daughter. My responsibility.”  

David shook his head. “It’s a trap. All of it.”  

Jennifer looked at him.  

“I know,” she said. “But it’s the only way to keep her from releasing it before the trial.”  

David stared at her for a long moment.  

Then he nodded once.  

“Then I’m going too,” he said. “And if she touches you, I’ll burn her world down.”  

Jennifer almost smiled.  

They reached Benz Holdings HQ at 7:45 AM.  

The building was locked down. Security had doubled. Reporters were already gathering outside, tipped off somehow.  

Ravenna loved an audience.  

Inside, the boardroom was set up for a public broadcast. Cameras, lights, a single chair at the head of the table.  

Ravenna appeared on the main screen.  

She was no longer in prison.  

She sat in a Geneva hotel suite, wine glass in hand, hair perfect, smile sharp.  

“Good morning, Jennifer,” she said. “You came. I’m impressed.”  

Jennifer stepped forward. “Release the video. Now.”  

Ravenna sipped her wine. “And why would I do that? You have nothing I want.”  

“You want me to walk away,” Jennifer said. “Fine. I’ll walk away from Benz Holdings. But you release the video and leave Mara and her daughter alone.”  

Ravenna tilted her head. “That’s generous. But I don’t make deals with people who are about to lose.”  

The doors behind Jennifer opened.  

Harry Argent walked in, free, suit pressed, flanked by two lawyers.  

“Bail was approved at 6 AM,” Harry said. “Technicality. Apparently, the judge’s husband works for Loriss Corp.”  

David moved in front of Jennifer instinctively.  

Harry smiled. “How predictable.”  

Ravenna clapped slowly. “Well done, Harry. Now, let’s vote.”  

The board members filed in. Eight of them. Five voted with Ravenna last time.  

“Item one,” Ravenna said. “Removal of David Loriss as CEO.”  

Hands went up. Four.  

“Item two,” she said. “Dissolution of the Benz-Loriss partnership.”  

Three hands.  

“Item three,” she said, smiling at Jennifer. “Appointment of myself as interim CEO.”  

Four hands went up.  

Majority.  

Jennifer’s stomach dropped.  

“It’s done,” Ravenna said. “Effective immediately, I control Loriss Corp and Benz Holdings.”  

David stepped forward. “You don’t have the votes. Klaus Weber didn’t vote.”  

Ravenna looked past them.  

Klaus Weber walked in, pale, sweating.  

“I did,” he said quietly. “I voted yes.”  

Jennifer felt the floor give out.  

Klaus had been their ally.  

Ravenna stood up in the hotel suite.  

“Thank you for playing, Jennifer,” she said. “Now, about that video—”  

The boardroom doors burst open again.  

Agent Laurent walked in, holding a tablet.  

“Stop,” he said.  

Ravenna paused.  

“We have a warrant for your arrest,” Laurent said. “Swiss federal court. Conspiracy, kidnapping, attempted murder.”  

Ravenna laughed. “You can’t arrest me. I’m in a hotel suite.”  

Laurent smiled.  

“No,” he said. “You’re not.”  

The screen behind him changed.  

It showed Ravenna’s hotel room.  

And Interpol officers kicking down the door.  

Ravenna’s face went blank for half a second.  

Then she stood up, calm as ever.  

“Checkmate, Jennifer,” she said. “But the game isn’t over.”  

The feed cut out.  

The room was silent.  

Harry looked around, realizing he was alone.  

Jennifer stepped forward.  

“It’s over, Harry,” she said.  

Harry’s smile was gone.  

“No,” he said. “It’s just beginning.”  

He pulled a phone from his pocket and pressed a button.  

The lights in the building went out.  

Alarms blared.  

And through the emergency intercom, a voice spoke.  

*“Detonation in 60 seconds. Floor 42. Evacuate now.”*  

Jennifer’s blood went cold.  

Floor 42 was the server room.  

All the evidence against Ravenna was stored there.