LOGINI was in the parking garage of my Beverly Hills high-rise. And I backed my car into my neighbor's Ferrari. On purpose. I got out, a half-empty bottle of tequila in my hand, right in front of her. "Are you blind? Do you know how much this car costs? Can you even afford to fix it?" She was furious, her face turning red as she whipped out her phone to call 911. I just smirked. "You should probably call them. Get the LAPD down here to arrest me. I'll wait." The first time around, I was the fall guy for my fiancé, Grant, and his sister, Blair. They got high at some Hollywood party, went joyriding, and killed an innocent valet. But the car was my Porsche. And they swore I was the one driving. I rotted in a California state prison for ten years. The shock killed my mom. A heart attack. When I got out, they weren't done. They forged offshore debts to drain my trust fund and drove me to suicide. I woke up 24 hours before it all happened again.
View MoreThe black sedan pulled up to the massive iron gates of the Grant estate. Blair reached for the door handle.The radio crackled. The undercover officer hit a button.Click.All four car doors locked simultaneously.“What are you doing?!” Blair shrieked, pounding on the window. “We’re home! Open the gates!”“We're executing a search warrant for the hostage,” the officer said coldly, her face a blank mask. “Where is she?”“You'll never find her!” Blair screeched, cornered and terrified. “She’s locked in our family’s underground wine cellar, the steel door is coded! You can't get in!”The words were out before she could stop them. Her own eyes widened in horror as she realized what she had just confessed.I stared at the screen, my heart hammering. A sharp pain went through my chest.A wine cellar.No sun. No sound. Just cold, damp stone walls.My mother, an old woman with a heart condition, had been trapped in a place like that all day.I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.
“A heart attack would be better.”On the other end of the line, Grant’s mother’s voice was light, casual, like she was talking about the weather.“It would save her a lot of suffering.”My nails dug into my palms so hard I thought they would draw blood.“Are you insane?!” I screamed. “She’s an old woman!”Liam quickly grabbed a notepad, scribbled two words on it, and pushed it in front of me.ASK DEMANDS.I stared at the paper, forcing down the rage, and made myself speak.“What do you want? Tell me.”A satisfied chuckle came from the phone.“It’s simple,” she said, her voice dripping with triumph. “Go to the DA. Retract your evidence. Then go to court and confess that you drugged Blair and forced her to drive.”A cold chill ran down my spine.“Whether I’m insane or not doesn’t matter,” she cut me off. “What matters is that judges tend to go easy on old ladies with heart conditions. All you have to do is get Blair home safe by 8 PM tonight, and we’ll let your mother go.”“And if I don’
The sound of Blair slamming the door echoed down the hall.I immediately went inside, opened my laptop, and downloaded three copies of the surveillance footage.One for my hard drive, one for the cloud, and one I sent directly to Liam.Later that afternoon at 4:30 PM, Liam and I were back at the LAPD station.Detective Ramirez’s brow furrowed as he took the USB drive.“This recording,” he said, looking at me, “is enough to charge her with intimidating a witness.”“I know,” I nodded.As we walked out of the station, a furious scream hit us.“You!” Grant’s mother saw me and charged, her face contorted with rage. “It’s all your fault, you bitch!”I flinched back, but her hand was already flying toward my face.Liam stepped in front of me, taking the full force of the slap on his neck.Grant’s father lunged at us, swinging wildly. “They stopped my daughter at LAX! She’s facing life in prison!” he roared. “This is all because of you!”Liam grunted in pain but didn’t move, his arms wrapped t
Blair lunged forward and grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin.“Julia, please!” Her tears came on command. “My parents are freaking out. They know the truth! They said they’re going to cut me off!”I shook her hand off and took a step back.“And what does that have to do with me?”“You have your trust fund!” she said, wiping away fake tears. “Just pay off the victim’s family. A wrongful death settlement. Then go to the cops and change your story! Say you lent the car to someone else before it happened! That way, my brother and I don’t go to jail, and everyone is happy!”I looked at her and laughed. “And why would I do that?”The moment I said it, Blair’s fragile act shattered.She stood up straight, her chin high, that familiar, arrogant look in her eyes.“Why?” she sneered. “Because my brother lowered himself to date a new-money nobody like you! Do you know how tacky your money is in our circle? You only got into the inner circle because of my brother! It's time for you to r
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