“What if she can’t get the samples to him?” Ellis paced my office, looking uneasy—probably because Fiona was locked in a meeting with Lauren and he couldn’t see her, and also because of what I’d asked him for.

“She will. She promised.”

Biyu hadn’t promised, exactly, but she’d said she would try.

She wanted to get the samples. I believed that. In addition to the trust fund, I’d offered her plane tickets to California and a fresh start here for her and her son, which included a new car, a condominium, and a position at Paragon—if she could deliver.

I hadn’t shared the parameters of my offer with Wes. A good, conservative Midwestern boy, he thought I was being a little too extravagant of late.

He might be right, but I needed those samples, dammit. I needed evidence that the claims I was about to make against Li Na Zhao were real. So I’d charged Biyu with the task of stealing lab results for both the gene therapy and the sensor. We could run the labs at Paragon, and then we’d have the proof we needed to show that Jiàn’s technology was faulty.

I had to document the process every step of the way, so I’d invited Calvin and a Wall Street Journal photographer to join me in Silicon Valley. They would organize and catalog all the evidence, and then we’d reveal the entire story in a front page exclusive.

I paced, waiting for Ellis to say something. Anything. 

“I don’t think he’s going to like being an international courier of corporate-espionage-inspired stolen goods, but he’ll do it if the price is right.”

I nodded fervently. “The price is right. Whatever he wants, I’ll do it.”

“Okay.” Ellis didn’t look like he really thought it was okay.

I continued to pace, not letting myself consider that he might be right.

---

“I have a Mr. Carey for you on line two,” my assistant said.

“Send him through.” I waited until the line clicked over. “It’s Mr. Carey now?”

“It’s just Carey.” As usual, my informant sounded humorless and slightly pissed.

“What’s going on?”

“I have those names you wanted.”

“Great.”

He’d been collecting the names of all the independent contractors who’d worked for Li Na over the past year. I wanted to assemble the list for the FBI as further proof of what Li Na had been up to. 

“What about the other name we discussed?” I held my breath, hoping he’d been able to find out who was responsible for Jim Pace’s death.

“I have the information you’re looking for.”

“But?”

“But it’s going to cost you.” Carey sounded pleased with himself, and I sincerely wished he had a higher moral fiber.

But I wanted the information. Bad. Bad enough to keep Carey in a nice condo and the muscle cars he seemed to prefer. “I’m prepared for that. So, Carey…let’s make a deal.”

---

It’s done, Biyu wrote. I put the packages into the locker at the airport like you said.

Did anyone find out? I wrote back, palms sweating.

I don’t know, but I’m not going back there to check. The lab has security cameras. See you on the other side, she wrote.

I was going to have to explain an awful lot to Wesley when I picked Biyu and her son up at the airport.

If they made it to the airport.

I paced my office, waiting to hear anything. There was no other news, and I knew I had to wait until Ellis’s contact landed on American soil to begin my campaign in earnest.

So for now, the phone was my only weapon. Like any good publicity director, I yielded it expertly. I pulled up my list and started dialing my media contacts, getting everyone buzzing about the news about to break.

Today, I stoked the fire.

Tomorrow, I watched Li Na burn.

---

“He’s here. I have the samples. I’ll send them to the lab with Levi.”

“Thank you, Ellis.” I sank down into my chair, relieved.

“You’re welcome. Try to stay out of trouble long enough to finish this thing, okay?”

I could hear the grin in his voice.

“Okay.”

I immediately called Calvin after I hung up with Ellis. “The samples are on their way. We’re getting started this afternoon.”

Calvin and the photographer were staying at an Airbnb in town.

“We’ll be there. I can’t wait to find out what the hell these are samples of—they better be good!” 

“They are.”

“I know. I can tell you’re nervous—and you wouldn’t be nervous if this wasn’t a big deal. See you in a few.”

I could hear the grin in his voice, too.

Nerves thrumming with adrenaline, I prepared a list of all the steps I needed to take over the next twenty-four hours. By the time Levi arrived with the stolen samples, I was ready to move forward into my future, one that didn’t involve Li Na Zhao.

---

Lauren herself oversaw the testing of the Jiàn Innovations samples. “I’m writing a formal report, one we can file with the Chinese government—they need to know about this, too. They need to be more careful.”

While we waited for her to finish the report, Calvin interviewed me. I told him everything, from the beginning—how Li Na tried to steal the patch, what had happened to Clive Warren, everything. His mouth hung open a lot of the time. 

I told him about being kidnapped. I told him about Wes. I told him about Jim Pace and Protocol Therapeutics.

After we finished our interview and Lauren completed the report, Calvin took his copy and went to file his story. That was when I called Agent Marks from the FBI, giving him the list of names Carey had provided me with.

I gave him the name of the man who shot Jim Pace.

I didn’t give him Carey’s name, which Bethany was having an absolute fit about, but a deal was a deal.

“Even if that makes you an accessory?” Bethany spluttered.

I sighed. “I guess so.”

She stalked out of my office, high heels clicking angrily down the hall.

Hours later, Calvin called me. “The story’s about to go live.” Now he sounded nervous. “Be prepared for the onslaught.”

Levi had quadrupled security, but the FBI was busy rounding up Li Na’s henchmen. So maybe we were safe. She didn’t have many warm bodies left to hire.

I paced my office until I gave up and kept hitting the refresh button. Finally, I saw the headline: Chinese CEO Kills for Silicon Valley Biotechnology. The subtitle read: Defective, Stolen Products Approved by Chinese Government. I scanned the rest of the article, which named Li Na Zhao and discussed at length how the stolen technology was just days away from being sold to patients.

A minute later, my phone started ringing. 

But before I answered, I gave myself one brief moment to gloat. You did it.

Smiling, I answered the phone.

---

LI NA

Like most things, I knew before anyone else. As per my normal routine, I woke at four a.m., logged onto my laptop, and read all the day’s headlines and industry news.

I read all the day’s headlines and industry news about me and my company.

Chinese CEO Kills. This was bad enough.

Defective Products Approved by Chinese Government. But this one undid me.

I could barely face my own disgrace. But my country, my people… We’d been caught looking the fool in front of the whole world.

Rage pulsed through me as I read the piece that started it all, the exclusive in the Journal, and then read all the ancillary coverage. The articles about how I’d stolen from Silicon Valley. How I’d hired others to kill for me. And worst of all, how I’d failed to pull it off.

The Journal article discussed at length how the Chinese government neglected to properly test Jiàn’s technology. It said the government was “over-eager” and “trying desperately to stay on the forefront” of the bio-economy.

Shame. I’d brought shame on my country. So close to success, I’d been lied to and thwarted again.

This time, it had been in public. I was trapped by the story. There was no turning back, no way to pivot and maneuver and turn this to my advantage.

I looked at the pictures on the Journal’s website, scrolling past the ones of me and Jiàn headquarters. I stopped at the final photo. It was of Hannah and Lauren Taylor, their insipid blonde heads inclined toward each other, smiling at the camera.

They’d tricked me for the last time. And they’d injured me so greatly, they might think there was no recovering from this. Still, I’d never been one to bother with regret. Action was the only useful remedy for this type of grief.

In one instant, my face, my reputation was shattered. All that remained were shards—but I prided myself on my propensity for reinvention.

I’d find a way to make use of the shards. I’d find a way to make them bleed.