Mac Clement stood frozen in the doorway of his own bedroom, his hand still gripping the bouquet of white roses he'd bought for Jane. The flowers trembled in his grasp as he watched his wife of two years wrapped in the arms of another man, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that made his stomach clench with nausea.David Richardson. The name echoed in Mac's mind like a death sentence. The wealthy heir to Richardson Industries, with his perfectly styled blonde hair and designer suits that cost more than most people's monthly salary. Everything Mac appeared not to be.The roses slipped from Mac's fingers, scattering across the hardwood floor like drops of blood. The soft thud made Jane's eyes snap open, her pupils dilating with shock as she saw him standing there."Mac!" She scrambled to pull the silk sheets over her naked body, her face flushing crimson. "You're... you're supposed to be at work!"David Richardson didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed. He sat up slowly,

The Grand Ballroom of the Nixon Plaza Hotel buzzed with the kind of energy that only came when the city's most powerful people gathered in one place. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light over men in custom-tailored tuxedos and women draped in designer gowns worth more than most people's annual salaries.Mac stood near the entrance, adjusting his simple black suit, the same one he'd worn to his own wedding two years ago. To everyone else in the room, he looked like exactly what Jane had always claimed he was: a nobody who didn't belong.He watched the crowd with calculated interest, recognizing faces from newspaper business sections and society pages. City council members, bank presidents, real estate moguls, all of them here to celebrate the birthday of Golden Enterprise's mysterious CEO, a man whose identity had been kept carefully hidden from the public for years."Excuse me, sir." A hotel staff member approached Mac with a polite but firm expression. "I'm going to need to see your

Shirley stared at the business card in her trembling hands, the weight of her desperation making the decision for her. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll do it."Mac felt a surge of satisfaction, though he kept his expression neutral. "Excellent. I'll have the paperwork prepared by tomorrow. Can you meet me at this address at seven PM?" He wrote down the location of a small law office downtown that he used for confidential business."Tomorrow?" Shirley looked surprised. "That's very fast.""My clients don't like to wait when they've found someone they want to work with. But if you need more time to think about it...""No!" The desperation in her voice was unmistakable. "No, tomorrow is fine. I just... I need to know this is real. That you're not some kind of con artist taking advantage of desperate people."Mac almost laughed at the irony. "I understand your concern. Tell you what, here's an advance on your first payment." He pulled out his wallet and counted out five hundred dollars in cas

The next morning, Mac sat in his penthouse office overlooking Nixon City, reading through every document he could find about Robert Chen's case. Shirley sat across from him, nervously sipping coffee and looking like she hadn't slept much."I still can't believe last night actually happened," she said quietly. "Those men, that place... Mac, who are you really?"Mac looked up from the legal papers. "I told you. I'm Michael Clarke, a business consultant.""Business consultants don't usually have the power to walk into criminal compounds and demand the release of hostages."Mac set down the documents. She was right to be suspicious, but he couldn't reveal his true identity yet. Not until he understood exactly what they were dealing with."Let's focus on your father's case for now. According to these court records, he was convicted of stealing two million dollars from Thompson Bank over a three-year period."Shirley shook her head firmly. "That's impossible. My father is the most honest ma

The safe house was nothing like Shirley had expected. Located in an upscale residential area twenty minutes from downtown, it looked like an ordinary suburban home from the outside. But inside, it contained technology that belonged in a spy thriller...multiple computer monitors, encrypted communication equipment, and security systems that made Mac's penthouse look simple by comparison."Whose place is this?" Shirley asked as Mac led her through rooms filled with sophisticated equipment."Someone who values privacy," Mac replied, his attention already focused on uploading the files they'd stolen from Thompson Bank. "We can analyze the evidence here without worrying about surveillance or interruption."Shirley noticed he'd been acting strangely during the car ride from downtown. The confident, reassuring Mac who had guided her through the break-in had been replaced by someone distant and preoccupied. Every few minutes, he would pull out his phone and stare at something on the screen, his