Ch.28: The Asset Freeze

The subway tunnel was freezing, but my mind was on fire.

"We need cash," I said, pacing the small room. "If we're going to the cemetery, we need transportation, gear, maybe a bribe for the night watchman."

"I have accounts," Julian said, pulling out a burner phone he had swiped from the guard. "Offshore. Untraceable."

He logged into a banking app. His fingers moved quickly.

"Accessing... wait."

He frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Access denied."

He tried again.

"Account frozen. By order of the Federal Prosecutor."

He looked up at me.

"They froze everything. Personal accounts. Corporate holdings. Even the trust fund I set up for my cat."

"What about your crypto?" I asked.

"Seized. Sterling got a court order. He argued I was using it to fund a terror network."

We were broke. Two of the most dangerous people in the city, and we couldn't afford a bus ticket.

"I have nothing," Julian said, dropping the phone onto the desk. He sounded stunned. For the first time, I saw the billionaire crack. Without his money, he felt naked.

"Welcome to my world," I said dryly.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. It was thin, battered leather.

I opened it. Three credit cards. Maxed out. A library card. And a picture of Liam.

"We don't need millions," I said. "We just need enough to survive the night."

I looked at the diamond ring on my finger. It wasn't mine. It was my mother's. It was the only thing of value I owned. The only thing Sterling hadn't taken because I was wearing it.

I pulled it off.

"Harper, no," Julian said, seeing what I was doing.

"It's just a rock," I said, my voice thick. "Liam is more important."

"That's your mother's ring."

"She would have sold it in a heartbeat to save him."

I looked at him.

"You said you'd prioritize me over the data. Prove it. Let me sell this."

Julian stared at me. Then, slowly, he reached for his wrist.

He unclasped his watch. The tourbillon. The quarter-million-credit timepiece.

"If we're selling heirlooms," he said, placing the watch on the table next to the ring. "We're selling mine too."

"That's a Patek Philippe," I whispered.

"It's just gears and springs," he echoed my words. "You are more important."

We walked out of the subway station and into the rain. We found a pawn shop in Sector 5. A place called "Easy Money" with bulletproof glass and a clerk who looked like he'd seen everything.

I put the ring and the watch on the counter.

The clerk's eyes widened when he saw the Patek.

"Is this hot?" he asked.

"It's lukewarm," Julian said smoothly. "We lost the papers."

"I can give you five thousand. For both."

"Five thousand?" I scoffed. "The watch alone is worth two hundred."

"Not without papers," the clerk shrugged. "Take it or leave it."

I looked at Julian. He nodded.

"We'll take it."

The clerk counted out the cash. Dirty, crumpled bills.

We walked out with five thousand credits. It was a fortune to me. It was pocket change to Julian.

But it was enough.

We bought clothes—black tactical gear from a surplus store. We bought a used sedan from a lot that didn't ask for ID. We bought flashlights, shovels, and a crowbar.

We sat in the car, parked under a bridge, eating cold burgers from a vending machine.

"You okay?" Julian asked.

I looked at my bare finger. I felt lighter. But also emptier.

"I'm fine," I lied.

"You're not."

He reached into his pocket.

"I couldn't save the ring," he said. "But I saved this."

He held out his hand. In his palm was a small, silver charm. A tiny piano.

It was from my bracelet. The one Mia wore in the video.

"How...?"

"It fell off when you were fighting with the guard," he said. "I picked it up."

He placed it in my hand.

"We're going to get it back, Harper. The ring. The reputation. The life."

"I don't want my life back," I said, closing my fist around the charm. "I want to burn theirs down."

I started the car. The engine coughed, then roared to life.

"To the cemetery?" Julian asked.

"To the cemetery."

I put the car in gear. I drove toward the darkness.

I was all in. There was no going back.