Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance
“That, my dear, is of no concern to you. If you must know it, then do something about your husband so he can tell you what it is. Your only concern is to get me what I want. You have one hour to make the transfer to the account, honey. Tick-tock, Eleanor. The clock is ticking. And one more thing, baby… you have to make sure no one else knows about this.”
With a final click, the line went dead, so that the phone was a dead weight in Eleanor's hand. She looked up at Jenny, her face twisted into a mask of terror.
“She wants forty-five million dollars,” she whispered, the words barely audible. “She has Damian… and my sister and her son… and she wants forty-five million dollars for them.”
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