Chapter 2

The night air hit me as soon as I stepped out of the hotel. Only then did I realize my back was soaked through.

The rush of revenge faded like the tide, replaced by a deep exhaustion and wariness. I knew that once my words spread online, Jason would come after me like a rabid dog.

I had to disappear. Now.

I hurried into a dead-end alley with no cameras and was about to pull out my SIM card when my phone screen lit up.

A text from an unknown number.

Just one line: "The dashcam footage you mentioned—is it the original copy?"

My heart sank. My blood ran cold.

The only people who knew about that dashcam, aside from me and Jason, were a few of his trusted people from back then. Jason wouldn't text me like this—he'd just send men to grab me.

So who was this?

They were in the shadows. I was in the open. Not only did they know I had leverage, but they were even questioning whether I'd been bluffing on that live stream.

The word "original" hit me right where it hurt.

I didn't reply. I shut off the phone, yanked out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and flushed it down a sewer grate.

I couldn't go home—that place belongs to Karen and Amy now. I didn't reach out to any old friends either. I knew Jason's methods too well. I couldn't drag anyone else into this.

With the little cash I had left, I found a small motel on the outskirts that didn't require ID, then bought a cheap burner phone and an untraceable prepaid SIM from a used electronics shop.

By the time I was done, it was late at night.

The room was small and damp, smelling of mold. I sat on the stiff mattress and stared at the neon lights blinking outside the window, my eyes cold and empty.

Less than half an hour after I turned on the new phone, it rang.

I looked at the unknown number flashing on the screen, let out a cold laugh, and answered.

"Amanda, where the hell are you hiding?!" Jason's voice on the other end was hoarse and distorted with rage and fear.

He had already tracked down my new number that fast. I clearly underestimated his reach in this city.

"Mr. Grayson, in such a hurry to find me—are you inviting me to your wedding?" I leaned against the wall, my tone light as if we were talking about the weather.

"Cut the crap!" Jason was breathing heavily. "Let's talk. Name your price. How much do you want for the footage? Houses, cars, cash—just name it. But don't make me do this the hard way. You know what I'm capable of."

"The hard way?" I scoffed. "Like what you did to my brakes three years ago?"

Silence. Dead silence on the other end.

"Listen to me, Jason." I dropped the smile, my voice cold as a blade dipped in ice. "Three years ago, you tricked me into taking the fall, promising to take care of my mom and sister. Now, I want the penthouse downtown—the one worth eighty million. By noon tomorrow, I want to see the deed transferred to my name. One dollar short, one minute late, and you'll be dealing with the police."

"Eighty million?! Amanda, you're insane! That's extortion!" Jason completely lost it.

With his company's current cash flow, pulling out eighty million in a single day would be like ripping out his spine..

That was exactly what I wanted—to make him hurt, to make him panic, to make him lose his cool.

"Then don't pay. We'll see each other in court."

Without another word, I hung up and blocked the number.

I could picture him smashing up his office in helpless rage. But this was far from over.

I put down the phone. The mysterious text message came back to mind.

Then my phone buzzed again.

Same unknown number. This time, they were calling.

I took a deep breath and answered.

"Miss Amanda Lowe, hello." A low, raspy male voice came through—weary, but sharp. "I'm Leo Meyers. My father was the truck driver killed in that accident three years ago. I think we need to meet."

My eyes went wide.

Leo Meyers. The boy who'd stared at me in that courtroom with bloodshot eyes, wanting to tear me apart.

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