Chapter 9
I drove alone toward the abandoned factory, a suitcase full of cash sitting beside me.
Inside the vehicle, hidden surveillance equipment was transmitting everything in real time. Over twenty SWAT officers were already stationed around the building, waiting for the signal.
I pushed open the rusted iron gate. My footsteps echoed through the empty warehouse.
“Georgia! You finally showed up!” Mrs. Dawson’s shrill voice cut through the night air like a blade.
She was standing behind a pile of scrap metal with a rusty kitchen knife clutched in her
hand.
From the shadows, Jordan stepped forward. His face was twisted with a kind of madness I’d never seen before.
In the middle of the factory, the old professor was tied to a concrete pillar with a rag stuffed in his mouth. His eyes were filled with terror.
“Did you bring the money?” Jordan rasped, his voice barely human.
I held up the suitcase. “Five million. Not a cent short.”
He quickly snatched it from my hands and flipped it open like a starving man. Rows and rows of crisp hundred-dollar bills lit up his eyes.
“Hahaha! Five million! It’s really five million!” He hugged the money to his chest, laughing
like a lunatic.
Mrs. Dawson leaned over, her eyes gleaming with greed as she ran her hands over the
bills.
“With this, we can disappear and start over!”
Jordan’s laughter abruptly stopped. “Disappear?” His expression hardened. “No. We’re going to kill her. She destroyed our lives. She has to die.”
He then reached for a knife tucked at his waist. The blade glinted coldly under the dim light.
“Start with the old man,” Mrs. Dawson screeched. “Let her watch her savior die right in
front of her!”
Jordan raised the blade and walked toward the professor.
At that moment, I pressed a small hidden button in my palm, and a burst of thick dye and tear gas exploded from inside the suitcase.
“My eyes!” Mrs. Dawson screamed, clawing at her face.
Jordan choked violently, stumbling as he dropped the knife.
Suddenly, dozens of spotlights beamed down from above, flooding the factory in white light.
1/2 85.0%
“Police! Drop your weapons and don’t move!”
SWAT officers descended from the skylights, their rifles trained on the now-blinded pair.
Jordan and Mrs. Dawson were a mess, coughing, crying, and covered in purple dye. They looked absolutely pathetic.
“You set me up!” Jordan shouted, trying to stand, only to be stomped down by a boot on
his back.
I walked toward him, looking down from above.
“You thought you were outsmarting me,” I said coldly. “But really, you were digging your own grave.”
“You-” He tried to speak, but a SWAT officer drove a knee into his spine, cutting him off
completely.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Dawson was still shrieking, “Georgia, you bitch! You ruined my son!”
“Shut up!” barked the SWAT team leader. “Eva Dawson, Jordan Dawson, you’re under arrest for kidnapping, extortion, and attempted murder.”
Handcuffs then clicked onto their wrists.
While they were busy, I turned and rushed to the old professor, gently undoing the ropes
around him.
His hands trembled as fear still lingered in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Goodwin,” I said softly. “You got caught up in this because of me.”
But he shook his head slowly and whispered, “No, Georgia… as long as you’re safe.”
Soon, Jordan and Mrs. Dawson were dragged into the police van, still yelling and cursing as the doors slammed shut.
I stood at the factory entrance, watching the taillights fade into the distance.
This time, it was really over.
I didn’t go to the court hearing.
But I already knew the outcome.
Fifteen years in prison. That’s what Jordan and Mrs. Dawson got.
Fifteen years.
I did the math. When they’re finally out, I’ll be forty.
And I wondered, what kind of woman would I be by then?
Georgia’s POV
