Alexandra’s perspective
The agents of the FBI hurried quickly. Secured the doors. Obscured the windows. Transformed the workplace into a stronghold.
"He's three blocks off," one agent communicated into his radio. "Walking forward." Several individuals accompanied him. "Equipped."
My dad was arriving. Armed with firearms. With assistance. To retrieve the files. To obtain me.
I occupied Marcus's desk. The computer monitor still displayed Nicholas's proof. Every crime committed by my father. Every one of his secrets. Total control over everything.
"You need to be relocated," the lead agent stated. He was called Foster. High. Honestly. Fearful. "Remove you from the building." "Placed in protective custody."
"Time is running out," Ramirez stated. She was no longer suspended. Not at a time
