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From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 162. Family Betrayal
Ivy's eyes locked onto Langley's, her heart racing with anticipation. What did he have that she would do anything to protect?Langley smiled, a sly smile spreading across his face. "You'll do anything to protect your family's company, won't you, Ivy?" he said.Ivy's eyes narrowed, her mind racing. What was Langley talking about?But before she could respond, Langley dropped another bombshell. "I have evidence that your family's company is involved in the embezzlement scheme," he said.Ivy's eyes widened in shock, her heart racing with fear. What was Langley talking about? Her family's company was not involved in the embezzlement scheme.But Langley just smiled, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. "I have documents, Ivy. Documents that prove your family's company is involved in the scheme."Ivy's eyes narrowed, her mind racing. This was a lie. Her family's company was not involved in the embezzlement scheme.But as she looked at Langley, Ivy saw something that made her blood
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 163. A Sinister Plot
Ivy and her uncle arrived at the police station, determined to finally uncover the truth. They were greeted by Detective James, who looked grim."What's going on?" Ivy asked, her heart racing with anticipation.Detective James hesitated before speaking. "We've received a tip that Margaret is planning to leave the country. We need to act fast if we're going to catch her."Ivy's eyes narrowed, her mind racing. They couldn't let Margaret get away."What's the plan?" Ivy asked, her voice firm.Detective James nodded. "We're going to set up a sting operation at the airport. We'll catch Margaret as she's trying to leave."Ivy nodded, her heart racing with excitement. This was it. They were finally going to catch Margaret.As they arrived at the airport, Ivy's nerves were on edge. She knew that this was a high-risk operation, but she was determined to see it through.Detective James gave the signal, and the police officers moved in. Ivy watched as they surrounded Margaret, who was trying to
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 164. Hidden Enemy
Ivy's eyes strained to see through the darkness, her heart racing with anticipation. The footsteps were getting closer, and she knew she had to act fast. She slowly backed away, trying not to make any noise. But as she moved, her foot knocked against a chair, sending it crashing to the floor. The footsteps stopped, and Ivy held her breath. She knew she had to get out of there, fast. Suddenly, the lights flickered back on, and Ivy saw a figure standing in front of her. It was a woman, dressed in a black coat, with a sinister grin spreading across her face. Ivy's eyes widened as she realized who the woman was. It was the same woman who had been watching her at the airport. The woman took a step closer, her eyes gleaming with malice. "You're quite the detective, Ivy," she said. "But you'll never take me down." Ivy stood her ground, her heart racing with fear. She knew she had to stay calm and think clearly if she was going to get out of this alive. The woman took another ste
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 165. Hidden Enemy II
Ivy and her uncle were taken to a safe house, where they were questioned by the police. Ivy told them everything she knew, from the mysterious messages to the chase through the streets.As they spoke, Ivy couldn't shake the feeling that there was still someone out there, watching her. She kept looking over her shoulder, expecting to see Rachel or one of the men.But as the hours passed, Ivy began to feel a sense of relief. They had caught Rachel and the men, and they were finally safe.Or so she thought.As the police were leaving, one of the officers handed Ivy a folder. "This was found on Rachel's person," he said. "We think it might be important."Ivy took the folder, her heart racing with anticipation. What could it be?As she opened the folder, Ivy's eyes widened in shock. Inside, she found a series of documents, detailing a sinister plot to take down her family's company.But that wasn't all. The documents also revealed that Rachel was just a small part of a much larger conspira
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 166. What Next?
"You said you have new updates for me?" Moses had been eagerly waiting ever since Greg called him that he was coming over with big news. Finally, he would get enough proof that Van was a criminal and he would use it to ruin his life, maybe even send him back to prison. "Yes. Is Bianca here?""Bianca? I don't understand, what does that have to do with the update you have?""Nothing. But the news I have is very big, and Bianca being here might jeopardize whatever plans you might have for Van. For confidentiality sake, I think it's better if it's just us.""Whatever. I still don't understand but she's not here. I sent her home early this morning. That woman is nothing but a headache to me lately, if it wasn't for what you said, I would have called off the wedding.""What is she doing?""We can talk about that later. Just tell me what you found.""Right okay. Remember the last time we spoke, I mentioned something about Dev?""Yeah?" He could never forget. The person who bought the hotel
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 167. Live Video
Bianca had tried different ways to get Van's attention but all to no avail. It felt like no matter what she did, he was unmoved, almost like he couldn't even see her at all. And she hated that. She tried sending text messages but she didn't know if he had blocked her number or maybe he changed his but it didn't go through. She also couldn't go to his house because she had no idea where he lived currently. The only other way she could reach out to him was through social media, but either he wasn't active or he had blocked her there as well. So her last resort was this. If she couldn't reach him personally, then she might as well reach out to the whole world. If he didn't see it, surely someone around him will. As soon as the live video started, Bianca's face filled the screen, her eyes cast downward in a gesture of remorse. She took a deep breath before speaking, her voice trembling with emotion."Hello, everyone. I would like to apologize for my behavior at the restaurant the ot
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 168. A decision
Moses's face contorted into a deep frown as he stared at his phone. He groaned and tossed the device aside. "What's wrong?" Greg asked, noticing the change in his demeanor. "Bianca. She said she wants to see me, that it's important. If I'm being honest with you Greg, I'm done with this relationship.""Why? She did something again?""Are you seriously asking me that? What the hell is the meaning of that nonsense she posted online the other day? Asking that son of a bitch to see her, and I bet the bastard ignored her too!""Just listen to her, Moses," Greg urged. "You never know what she might have to say, it could actually be important."Moses sighed, but eventually agreed to meet with Bianca. They agreed to meet at L'amor Del Rosario, a first class restaurant popular for their steaks.Bianca was already seated when Moses arrived, sipping a glass of wine. She looked beautiful, there was no doubt about that. The beauty that attracted him to her from the start was still there but Moses
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 169. More Questions
Ivy's eyes widened in shock as Detective James told her about the mayor's kidnapping. This was getting out of hand."What do we do now?" Ivy asked, her heart racing with fear.Detective James' expression was grim. "We need to find out who's behind this and get the mayor back."Ivy nodded, her mind racing. She knew that she had to do something.As they arrived at the police station, Ivy could see the chaos. Police officers were running around, trying to coordinate a rescue mission.Ivy's eyes scanned the room, looking for someone to talk to. And then, she saw him. The police chief, standing in the corner, looking smug.Ivy's eyes narrowed, her mind racing. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be under arrest.As Ivy approached him, the police chief looked up, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Ivy, I see you're still trying to play hero," he said.Ivy's eyes flashed with anger. "What do you know about the mayor's kidnapping?" she demanded.The police chief shrugged. "I don't
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220. The Raid
The black SUV tore through the city streets, weaving between cars and running red lights.Rain slapped against the windshield in heavy sheets, turning the world into a blur of lights and shadows.Van sat in the passenger seat, jaw tight, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on his knee.Beside him, Keller drove like a man possessed, silent and focused.Carla sat in the back, double-checking the blueprints of the warehouse on her tablet."Franklin and Third," she muttered."Two floors. Old textile plant. Abandoned for years. No security cameras, no neighbors — perfect place to stash someone."Van’s stomach twisted.It was too perfect.He kept flashing back to Vance’s words: If they think you’re coming, they’ll move her—or worse.He couldn't afford to think about what worse meant.Not now.Not when they were this close.They arrived in less than fifteen minutes.The warehouse loomed out of the mist like a dead thing — gray, crumbling, windows shattered, rust eating through the metal doors.
219. Confession
The air inside the van was thick with tension.Julian Vance sat slumped against the wall, wrists cuffed to a metal ring bolted to the floor.The blindfold was gone, but fear had carved deep lines into his face.Sweat soaked through his shirt despite the cold night air.Across from him, Van leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, studying him like a puzzle that needed solving.Keller sat beside Van, silent and looming, while Carla hovered near the door, tablet in hand, recording everything.No one spoke for a long moment.They let the fear do its work first.Vance fidgeted, his eyes darting from face to face, looking for a crack, a kindness.He found none.Finally, Keller broke the silence."You know who we are," he said calmly."You know why you’re here."Vance licked his lips."I—I’m just an accountant," he stammered."I don’t know anything."Keller smiled thinly."You know enough to get yourself killed. Or saved. Your choice."Vance’s hands twisted in the cuffs."I can’t," he whisper
218. The Aftermath
The night was soaked in the heavy stench of gunpowder and rain.Sirens howled in the distance — getting closer — but Agent Keller’s team moved fast.They swept the abandoned lot, securing what little evidence Moses had left behind: a few casings, tire tracks gouged deep into the mud, a broken phone.It wasn’t enough.Moses had disappeared like a phantom into the night, and worse — he had seen through the setup.Van had barely made it out alive.Inside the mobile command van, Keller slammed his fist against the table."Someone tipped him off," he growled."There’s no way he walked into that meeting with backup unless he knew we were coming."Carla sat beside Van, wrapping a makeshift bandage around his bleeding arm.Her hands were steady, but her face was grim.Van winced as the gauze tightened, but he barely felt the pain.His mind was somewhere else.A traitor.Someone inside their circle.Someone who had sold them out to Moses.Keller paced furiously, barking orders into his radio,
217. The Hunt
The plan was simple on paper.Simple, but dangerous.Van stood at the cracked concrete window of a forgotten motel room on the edge of the city, watching the rain smear the world into gray blurs.Inside the room, Agent Keller was setting up equipment — laptops, burner phones, tiny recorders the size of coins — while Carla scribbled notes furiously into a weathered notebook.Van’s nerves hummed under his skin.He wasn’t a cop.He wasn’t a spy.He was just a man trying to survive.And now, somehow, he was about to help bring down one of the most powerful men in the city."Here’s the plan," Keller said, pulling Van’s attention back.He laid out a rough blueprint of the next 48 hours:Van would reach out to Moses — casual, non-threatening — suggest a meeting under the pretense of "burying the hatchet."Offer him information.Play on his paranoia.The idea was to draw Moses out.Get him somewhere isolated.Somewhere they could grab him without witnesses.If they could catch Moses talking —
216. Warehouse Meeting
Van’s mind was spinning as he approached the dilapidated warehouse by the docks.The wind whipped at his coat, the sound of waves crashing against the concrete pier mixing with the distant hum of city traffic.This place had once been a hub of activity, a center of trade and industry.Now, it was just a hollow skeleton, abandoned and forgotten.Perfect.It was the kind of place where you could disappear without a trace.Van approached cautiously, his footsteps echoing in the empty street.The docks were deserted at this hour, save for a few stray cats rummaging through trash.No sign of anyone watching.But he knew better than to assume that meant safety.They were out there.Someone was always watching.His fingers brushed against the rough stone of the warehouse’s exterior as he rounded the corner.A single light flickered above the entrance, casting long, crooked shadows.A thick metal door was ajar, just enough to let him slip inside.Van hesitated for a moment, then pushed it ope
215. Late Warning
The city looked different in the dead of night.From the back of the taxi, Van saw it all pass in a blur — the glimmering skyline, the fog rolling across the river, the endless rows of apartments stacked up like cheap cardboard boxes.But it was the shadows he saw most clearly.The places where people hid their sins.Van rubbed his fingers over the cracked screen of Bianca’s phone.The evidence was still fresh in his mind — too fresh. The videos, the photos, the recordings.He hadn’t even begun to process it all.But he couldn’t stop now.He couldn’t let them win.The taxi rolled to a stop at the airport’s long-term parking lot.Van didn’t get out.Instead, he stared through the windshield at the flickering terminal lights, his thoughts spiraling.Was this it?Was he about to leave everything behind?Ivy, the kids, his life as he knew it?He couldn’t.He wouldn’t.But he also couldn’t stay.He needed allies.Van stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver in cash before walking throug
214. Secrets
Van didn’t go straight home. He knew better. If they were watching him — and after tonight, he was sure of it — bringing danger to Ivy and the kids would be unforgivable. Instead, he drove to a cheap motel on the edge of town, the kind of place nobody asked questions and the cameras were either broken or faked. The neon VACANCY sign buzzed weakly against the rain-soaked sky as Van pulled into the lot. Room 12 smelled like mold and old cigarettes, but it had a lock on the door and curtains thick enough to block the world out. For now, that was enough. He locked the door, jammed a chair under the knob, and dumped the soaked backpack on the stained mattress. He pulled out Bianca’s phone with trembling hands. Still wet. Still cracked. Still hers. Van sat down heavily and got to work. First step: dry the phone. He stripped it carefully, removing the battered SIM card and the microSD tucked into the side. Both small enough to fit in his wallet. He left the phone shell near
213. Hidden Tunnels
The marina was deserted. The storm had driven everyone indoors, and the usual hum of yacht engines and tourist chatter was replaced by the howl of the wind against steel masts. Boats bobbed violently in the dark water, their ropes creaking like dying animals. Van parked three blocks away and approached on foot, keeping to the shadows. The piece of paper with the coordinates was damp in his pocket, but he had already memorized them. The entrance to the old service tunnels wasn’t easy to find. Most people didn’t even know they existed — relics from when the marina had been part of a naval shipyard decades ago. Now, the city had simply built over them, sealing the past under concrete and forgetting. But Van remembered. His father had worked the shipyards once, before everything went wrong. He found the access point tucked behind a rusted utility shed — a heavy steel hatch, half-hidden by tangled vines. He tugged at the handle. Locked. Van gritted his teeth, pulled a crowbar
212. Meeting In The Rain
The storm didn’t let up.It pounded the city in thick, angry sheets, flooding gutters, choking the storm drains, turning alleyways into rivers of filth.Van watched it from the living room window, one hand curled around a cold cup of coffee.He hadn’t slept.He couldn’t.Not with the bloody scrap locked away in his desk drawer.Not with Ivy pretending everything was fine for the kids’ sake.At 2:37 a.m., his phone buzzed again.Unknown Number.Van snatched it up.A text this time.MEET ME.PARKER’S GARAGE. 4AM. COME ALONE.No signature.No instructions.But Van already knew he was going.★★★Parker’s Garage was an old, abandoned auto shop on the east side, gutted years ago after a fire.Van remembered it from his teenage years — a place where kids would go to drink, fight, and hide from the world.He drove through the drowned streets, headlights cutting through the rain like a blade.The city felt deserted, haunted.Every instinct told him this was a trap.He went anyway.He pulled up
