Chapter 18: The Flight of the Bride
She didn't bother changing. She burst through the back exit of the boutique, the heavy train of her dress tearing against the alleyway pavement. The afternoon sun was blinding. Sirens wailed in the distance—Grant wasn't bluffing. She needed to get to the offshore bank across town, empty the box, and disappear. It was a plan she had executed before, though never with such a messy departure.
She hailed a cab, her frantic demeanor and blood-stained hands drawing a terrified look from the driver. "Just drive!" she screamed, throwing a wad of cash from her bodice at the plexiglass divider.
But traffic was gridlocked. The sirens were growing louder. Glancing out the back window, she saw Grant’s black SUV weaving dangerously through the stagnant cars. He was tracking her. She cursed, kicking off her diamond-encrusted heels. She shoved the car door open and ran into the sprawling industrial park that bordered the river, the heavy dress acting like an anchor.
