Chapter 24
The freezing wilderness of the northern border was a stark, brutal contrast to the cinematic luxury of Claire's estate. The sky was an oppressive gray, the biting wind whipping through the dense pine forests.
A dilapidated, isolated cabin sat in a small clearing. Inside, Diane Bennett huddled near a rusted wood-burning stove. The sixty-three-year-old former matriarch looked horrific. Her expensive makeup and designer clothes were gone, replaced by layers of filthy, ill-fitting winter gear. Her fair, rosy skin was cracked and weathered by the unforgiving elements.
She clutched a prepaid, disposable cell phone, waiting for the smugglers to call her back.
Suddenly, the heavy wooden door of the cabin blew entirely off its hinges with a deafening crash.
Diane shrieked, dropping the phone as she scrambled backward into the corner.
The freezing wind howled through the breach as Claire stepped into the cabin. She wore a sleek, heavy black winter coat, looking like a terrifying goddess of vengeance. Marcus and two elite operators flanked her, their suppressed automatic weapons raised.
"Hello, Diane," Claire whispered. Her crisp American accent cut through the howling wind, cold and absolute.
May you like
Diane stared up at her former daughter-in-law, her eyes wide with sheer, unadulterated terror. "Claire! How... how did you find me?!"
"I own the satellite networks you used to make your pathetic phone calls," Claire stated smoothly, stepping further into the freezing room.
