HANNAH Page 20

  But I wanted the information. Bad. Bad enough to keep Carey in a nice condo and the muscle cars he seemed to prefer. “I’m prepared for that. So, Carey…let’s make a deal.”

  * * *

  It’s done, Biyu wrote. I put the packages into the locker at the airport like you said.

  Did anyone find out? I wrote back, palms sweating.

  I don’t know, but I’m not going back there to check. The lab has security cameras. See you on the other side, she wrote.

  I was going to have to explain an awful lot to Wesley when I picked Biyu and her son up at the airport.

  If they made it to the airport.

  I paced my office, waiting to hear anything. There was no other news, and I knew I had to wait until Ellis’s contact landed on American soil to begin my campaign in earnest.

  So for now, the phone was my only weapon. Like any good publicity director, I yielded it expertly. I pulled up my list and started dialing my media contacts, getting everyone buzzing about the news about to break.

  Today, I stoked the fire.

  Tomorrow, I watched Li Na burn.

  * * *

  “He’s here. I have the samples. I’ll send them to the lab with Levi.”

  “Thank you, Ellis.” I sank down into my chair, relieved.

  “You’re welcome. Try to stay out of trouble long enough to finish this thing, okay?”

  I could hear the grin in his voice.

  “Okay.”

  I immediately called Calvin after I hung up with Ellis. “The samples are on their way. We’re getting started this afternoon.”

  Calvin and the photographer were staying at an Airbnb in town.

  “We’ll be there. I can’t wait to find out what the hell these are samples of—they better be good!”

  “They are.”

  “I know. I can tell you’re nervous—and you wouldn’t be nervous if this wasn’t a big deal. See you in a few.”

  I could hear the grin in his voice, too.

  Nerves thrumming with adrenaline, I prepared a list of all the steps I needed to take over the next twenty-four hours. By the time Levi arrived with the stolen samples, I was ready to move forward into my future, one that didn’t involve Li Na Zhao.

  * * *

  Lauren herself oversaw the testing of the Jiàn Innovations samples. “I’m writing a formal report, one we can file with the Chinese government—they need to know about this, too. They need to be more careful.”

  While we waited for her to finish the report, Calvin interviewed me. I told him everything, from the beginning—how Li Na tried to steal the patch, what had happened to Clive Warren, everything. His mouth hung open a lot of the time.

  I told him about being kidnapped. I told him about Wes. I told him about Jim Pace and Protocol Therapeutics.

  After we finished our interview and Lauren completed the report, Calvin took his copy and went to file his story. That was when I called Agent Marks from the FBI, giving him the list of names Carey had provided me with.

  I gave him the name of the man who shot Jim Pace.

  I didn’t give him Carey’s name, which Bethany was having an absolute fit about, but a deal was a deal.

  “Even if that makes you an accessory?” Bethany spluttered.

  I sighed. “I guess so.”

  She stalked out of my office, high heels clicking angrily down the hall.

  Hours later, Calvin called me. “The story’s about to go live.” Now he sounded nervous. “Be prepared for the onslaught.”

  Levi had quadrupled security, but the FBI was busy rounding up Li Na’s henchmen. So maybe we were safe. She didn’t have many warm bodies left to hire.

  I paced my office until I gave up and kept hitting the refresh button. Finally, I saw the headline: Chinese CEO Kills for Silicon Valley Biotechnology. The subtitle read: Defective, Stolen Products Approved by Chinese Government. I scanned the rest of the article, which named Li Na Zhao and discussed at length how the stolen technology was just days away from being sold to patients.

  A minute later, my phone started ringing.

  But before I answered, I gave myself one brief moment to gloat. You did it.

  Smiling, I answered the phone.

  * * *

  LI NA

  Like most things, I knew before anyone else. As per my normal routine, I woke at four a.m., logged onto my laptop, and read all the day’s headlines and industry news.

  I read all the day’s headlines and industry news about me and my company.

  Chinese CEO Kills. This was bad enough.

  Defective Products Approved by Chinese Government. But this one undid me.

  I could barely face my own disgrace. But my country, my people… We’d been caught looking the fool in front of the whole world.

  Rage pulsed through me as I read the piece that started it all, the exclusive in the Journal, and then read all the ancillary coverage. The articles about how I’d stolen from Silicon Valley. How I’d hired others to kill for me. And worst of all, how I’d failed to pull it off.

  The Journal article discussed at length how the Chinese government neglected to properly test Jiàn’s technology. It said the government was “over-eager” and “trying desperately to stay on the forefront” of the bio-economy.

  Shame. I’d brought shame on my country. So close to success, I’d been lied to and thwarted again.

  This time, it had been in public. I was trapped by the story. There was no turning back, no way to pivot and maneuver and turn this to my advantage.

  I looked at the pictures on the Journal’s website, scrolling past the ones of me and Jiàn headquarters. I stopped at the final photo. It was of Hannah and Lauren Taylor, their insipid blonde heads inclined toward each other, smiling at the camera.

  They’d tricked me for the last time. And they’d injured me so greatly, they might think there was no recovering from this. Still, I’d never been one to bother with regret. Action was the only useful remedy for this type of grief.

  In one instant, my face, my reputation was shattered. All that remained were shards—but I prided myself on my propensity for reinvention.

  I’d find a way to make use of the shards. I’d find a way to make them bleed.

  Chapter 27

  Hannah

  Wes rubbed his hands together as the driver maneuvered the car down the freeway and took the exit for Cupertino. We were meeting his real estate agent at the house he’d recently looked at, located about ten miles from Lauren and Gabe’s property.

  “Wes?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “Are you nervous?”

  He bounced his big knee up and down, distractedly looking out the window. “Huh?”

  I took that as an answer and peered past him to look at the upscale neighborhood we’d entered. The grand stucco houses had large windows and manicured front lawns. The driver pulled up in front of a particularly large, stunning home. There was no for sale sign out front.

  I peered at the mini-mansion. “Is this the right place?”

  Wesley smiled. “Yep, this is it. William will meet us here in a minute. He just texted me he’s running late.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  I’d picked out the house Lauren and I lived in, so I knew a little about the local real estate market—it was insane. The modest house we’d grown up in in Michigan would be worth almost a million dollars in Silicon Valley. This house, in this neighborhood, had to be listed at well over two million dollars. I glanced at Wes. Did he know how much this place cost?

  A BMW sedan pulled up behind us a minute later. A compact Hispanic man wearing a three-thousand-dollar suit hopped out, all smiles. William, the real estate agent, clearly knew how much the house cost.

  “Wes, Hannah, sorry I’m late. Come on in, Hannah. You’re going to love this property. It’s turnkey. Immaculate. Wes, I know you already love it.”

  William ran through the details for my benefit: the house was built in the early nineties, the lot was
just under an acre, there was a cul-de-sac at the end of the street. The home was equipped with five bedrooms, four bathrooms, a gourmet kitchen, a solar-heating system, a workout room, and an in-ground pool. “It’s perfect for families,” William said, beaming at me.

  I nodded, unsure of what to make of him, his nonstop smiling, and his suit. He was trying to sell my boyfriend a mansion I wasn’t sure he could afford.

  At the end of the tour, William brought us back out to the front yard. “So, what do you think?”

  “You already know I think it’s perfect,” Wes said. “Honey? What do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful. It’s in a great neighborhood.” I was dying to ask who Wesley needed the five bedrooms for and how on earth he thought he could afford such a place, but I decided to wait.

  He studied my face. “Do you love it?”

  I looked at the house. “Of course I love it. It’s perfect.”

  Wes turned to William. “Make them a full-priced offer. I want it under contract before it goes on the market. Tell them we’ll do a short escrow.”

  William beamed. “Absolutely. I’ll call you later.” He practically skipped to his BMW and drove off.

  Wes smiled first at me, then at the house. “Well, that was easy.”

  “You can afford this place?” I blurted out.

  He looked at me, surprised. “How else did you think I was going to buy it?”

  I had no idea what his Betts Security salary was. Used to having plenty of money of my own—my annual salary plus the inheritance from my parents—I’d never given Wesley’s financial situation much thought.

  “Lauren pays you that much?” I’d always thought my sister was a little reserved with her employee compensation.

  “Lauren pays me fairly, within industry standards.”

  “Fair enough to buy a two-million-dollar-plus home?” I might need to ask my sister for a raise.

  His face darkened. “I have money from my parents.”

  “Oh.” I reached out and touched his shoulder. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you upset.”

  “You didn’t. I guess we’ve never really talked about it. We’ve sort of had a lot of other stuff going on.” He held up the key. “William said we can go back in. The owners already relocated, so we’re not putting them out. Want to take another look?”

  Another smile lit up his face, and I grinned back—his excitement was infectious.

  “I’d love to.”

  He held my hand as we went back inside, through the sunny foyer and into the open-concept living room and kitchen. “I love the fireplace,” Wes said, going over and running his hands over the marble. “I’ve always wanted one.”

  “And that wall is great for a television,” I said, pointing to the opposite end of the room. Wes could watch every football game imaginable on an enormous flat-screen TV.

  “You’re right, but I don’t want a television in every room. I want some quiet space, too—I know you love to read.”

  My heart started racing. He was thinking about me and what I might like to do in his new house? “Huh?”

  He looked at me sheepishly. “You need some space to read, right?”

  “Y-yeah. That’s really nice of you to think of me. But it’s going to be your house. You can do whatever you want with it.”

  Wes blew out a deep breath and looked around the room. “But I don’t want a house.”

  “Huh?” I asked again, confused. “Then what are we doing here?”

  “I want a home.” Wes looked at me, and my heart stopped. “And it would only be a home if you lived here, too.”

  About to say “huh” for the third time, I forced my mouth shut.

  Wes came over and tentatively reached for my hand. “I don’t want to pressure you. But…I don’t really need a five-bedroom house for just me and all my football trophies and weights.”

  “You—you don’t?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “No, I don’t.”

  I bit my lip. “Wes?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  “What exactly are you asking me?” My voice came out small.

  He laughed a little and laced his fingers through mine. “I’m asking you if—once we’re both back to normal and feeling settled and ready—you’d like to live here with me. If you would like my home to be your home—our home. I want us to live here together forever, or at least until we have so many kids we need a bigger house.”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.

  Wes looked worried. “Honey? Am I totally stressing you out? Are you having trouble breathing?”

  I started crying.

  “Oh shit,” he said, clearly panicked. “Do you want to sit down?”

  “N-no.” My chest was heaving. “Do you mean it? You want to buy this house for us?”

  “Only if that’s a good thing,” he said warily.

  I threw my arms around his neck and started sobbing. “Yes, it’s a good thing. It’s the best thing ever.”

  Chapter 28

  Hannah

  One Month Later

  I yawned and stretched luxuriously across our new king-size bed. Then I remembered what day it was, and I sat up and smiled. “Lauren’s bridal shower’s today, yay!”

  Wes chuckled and rolled over, snuggling with me beneath the blanket. “Do you think Lauren’s saying yay? Or do you think she’s already at the lab, trying to put a few hours in before you subject her to the torture of a silly ritual she has no interest in?”

  “Stop it.” I smiled.

  He went underneath the blanket, sliding down to put his mouth against my belly. “What do you think, huh, little future linebacker? Do you think Auntie Lauren’s pissed at Mommy for making her do this?”

  I giggled, playing with Wes’s hair until he got up to take a shower. We hadn’t told anybody, but the sixteen tests I’d taken since skipping my period had confirmed that I’d never had the stomach bug. Wes was beside himself with excitement, insisting it was a boy and that he was destined for an illustrious career in the NFL. On the other hand, he thought it might be a girl who would be president of the United States and would have no interest in boys whatsoever until she was thirty.

  I’d made no such predictions, still marveling at the life growing inside me, thrilled and terrified and feeling completely blessed. I was too paranoid to share the news yet, even with Lauren. I wanted to wait until we were twelve weeks pregnant, when Dr. Fisher told me the highest risk of miscarriage was past.

  Wes thought I was being superstitious, but I still couldn’t believe all my good luck. My eyes filled with tears as I lay in the bed, hearing him humming happily to himself in the shower. My cup was running over with happiness.

  Not only were we pregnant, we’d moved into our beautiful new house. I was hosting the bridal shower for Lauren later today, and I couldn’t wait. Our friends from Paragon were coming, along with Fiona, Bethany, and Gabe’s mother. The wedding was next month, and I was beside myself that my sister was finally marrying the love of her life.

  Biyu and her son had arrived safely at SFO, and had settled rather seamlessly into Silicon Valley life. She started work at Paragon next week, in the computer programming department.

  My plans for Li Na had worked better than I ever expected. The Wall Street Journal story had gone viral. Li Na’s production of the sensor and the gene therapy were halted immediately. The FBI had come through, for once, and pulled off a mass arrest of all Li Na’s American contacts, the thugs who’d committed crimes for her. In exchange for lighter sentences, they’d all agreed to provide detailed information about Zhao to the agency, who was actively building a case against her.

  Named in both the article and in warrants sought by the FBI, the Chinese government could no longer ignore Li Na’s crimes. It finally turned its back on her, stripping Jiàn Innovations of all its licenses and shutting it down. Li Na was to be extradited to the United States, where she would be prosecuted on multiple charges, including trade secre
t theft, wire fraud, and murder.

  Murder. We’d given the name of Jim Pace’s killer to the FBI. They were still looking for him, but they had multiple leads. Fiona was thrilled that, finally, steps were being taken to bring her husband’s killer to justice.

  Justice. It had been too much to hope for, but maybe, just maybe, Li Na Zhao would get hers. I didn’t know what her status was, if she was being detained in China or if they’d begun the extradition process. The FBI had taken over completely, and they wanted us out of it—which was fine by me. For once, I could breathe again, and I was so ready to get back to normal.

  I rubbed my stomach and grinned. The new normal.

  I heard a noise downstairs and called out, “Lauren? Did you come over early to help set up?”

  I giggled as I pictured my sister, the center of attention, opening the several packages of sexy lingerie that I’d gotten her from La Perla. She was going to have a fit, and I couldn’t wait!

  I sat up as I heard another noise. “Lauren?”

  But it wasn’t Lauren who opened my door. It was Carey, aka Mr. Gray Hoodie, my very expensive snitch.

  I clutched the comforter against me. “Carey?”

  He smiled when he saw me. It made me feel sick. I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing in my bedroom, but no words came out.

  “In here,” he called to the person behind him.

  I saw a flash of dark hair and opened my mouth to scream, but Carey took out his gun and pointed it at me. “Not a word. Where’s the big guy—in there?” We could hear Wes in the shower, still humming.

  “Don’t.” My voice came out a hoarse whisper.

  “Shut up.” Carey smiled again, heading toward the bathroom as Li Na Zhao stalked into my bedroom.

  I stared at her, unbelieving. Is this a nightmare?

  Carey moved closer to the bathroom.

  No, no, no! Time seemed to stop, crawling in slow motion, and it was if my brain couldn’t function.