AT OUR DAUGHTER’S $400,000 WEDDING AT THE PIERRE IN NEW YORK, MY HUSBAND SEATED HIS MISTRESS IN THE MOTHER-OF-THE-BRIDE CHAIR AND TOLD ME TO SIT IN THE BACK—BUT WHEN OUR DAUGHTER SAW WHO WAS SITTING BESIDE HER FATHER, SHE STOPPED WALKING DOWN THE A -

Chapter 9 – THE MEETING AT THE RESTAURANT

I returned to Chicago with the velvet pouch of diamonds secured deep inside my purse. I left the rest safely locked in the Swiss vault.

I had twenty-four hours left on Elias’s deadline.

I didn’t go home. I went straight to the downtown precinct where Richard was being held pending his bail hearing.

I arranged a meeting with Detective Ramirez, the lead investigator on Richard’s embezzlement case.

“Mrs. Whitmore,” Detective Ramirez greeted me in his cramped office. “If you’re here to post bail for your husband, the judge denied it this morning. He considers Mr. Whitmore a flight risk.”

“I’m not here to bail him out,” I said, taking a seat opposite his desk. “I’m here to give you the rest of the puzzle.”

I pulled out my phone and played a recording. I had recorded the entire conversation with Elias in my car two days ago.

Detective Ramirez listened as Elias detailed the two-million-dollar mob debt, Richard’s failed payment, and the threat on my life.

The detective’s eyes widened. “You’re being extorted by the Maroni crime family.”

“I’m being extorted because my husband tried to steal from them,” I corrected. “But I can help you catch Elias Vance and his boss. I just need you to let me make the payment.”

Ramirez frowned. “That’s incredibly dangerous, Diane. These men aren’t corporate thieves. They’re killers.”

“I know,” I said calmly. “But I have the money. And I have a plan.”

The next evening, with four hours left on the deadline, I walked into a high-end, dimly lit Italian restaurant downtown. It was the location Elias had instructed me to meet him.

Elias was sitting in a secluded corner booth, sipping a glass of red wine. He smiled as I approached, looking exactly like the polished lawyer he pretended to be.

“Diane,” Elias greeted, gesturing to the empty seat across from him. “Right on time. Please, sit.”

I sat down, placing my purse on the table.

“I hope you’ve brought good news,” Elias said, leaning forward, the dangerous edge returning to his voice. “My employers are not known for their patience.”

“I have the two million,” I said, keeping my voice steady.

Elias’s eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. “I admit, I didn’t think you could pull it off. A cashier’s check?”

“No,” I said, opening my purse. I pulled out the small velvet pouch and slid it across the table. “Untraceable diamonds. Appraised at exactly 2.5 million. Consider the extra half million a penalty fee for my husband’s stupidity.”

Elias looked at the pouch, then at me. He slowly untied the strings and poured a few of the flawless stones onto the dark tablecloth. They glittered fiercely under the restaurant lighting.

“Impressive,” Elias murmured, picking up a stone and examining it. “Very impressive, Mrs. Whitmore. You are far more resourceful than Richard gave you credit for.”

“Are we finished?” I asked coldly. “Is the debt settled?”

Elias smiled, sweeping the diamonds back into the pouch. “The debt is settled. You have nothing more to fear from us.”

“Good,” I said, standing up from the booth.

“However,” Elias added, stopping me in my tracks. “I did mention that Blair Montgomery offered to sell us Richard’s offshore passwords for protection.”

I turned back to him. “Yes.”

“She provided them this morning,” Elias smirked. “My employers drained the remaining three million from Richard’s hidden accounts. So, between your diamonds and her betrayal, we’ve doubled our investment.”

He raised his wine glass in a mock toast. “Have a lovely evening, Diane.”

I smiled softly. “You too, Elias.”

I walked out of the restaurant and onto the busy Chicago street.

I didn’t hail a cab. I walked to an unmarked black van parked across the street and climbed into the back.

Detective Ramirez was sitting at a console, surrounded by audio equipment.

“Did you get it?” I asked.

Ramirez grinned, pulling off his headphones. “Loud and clear. He just admitted to extorting you, accepting the diamonds, and hacking an offshore account to steal three million dollars. We have enough to arrest him, Blair, and his bosses.”

“And the diamonds?” I asked.

“The tracker you embedded in the velvet pouch is broadcasting perfectly,” Ramirez said, pointing to a blinking red dot on a digital map. “We’re tracking Elias right to the Maroni family’s main compound. We’re moving in tonight.”

I leaned back against the seat, a profound sense of exhaustion and triumph washing over me.

My mother’s diamonds had just bought the destruction of the men who tried to ruin my life.

But as the police van pulled away to follow Elias, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a call from the county jail.

TITLE: THE FINAL CALL