“Then we will simply tell everyone that you tripped and fell down the grand staircase,” he threatened.
Yasmin stepped forward, placing several legal documents on the coffee table and uncapping a sleek black pen.
“Sign the release form right now, and then we will call an ambulance to take you to the hospital, where we can say we just found you in this condition,” she suggested.
I stared at the paperwork as if my own time on this earth was rapidly running out.
They had absolutely no idea that the small black brooch pinned to my collar concealed a tiny high-definition camera.
They also did not know that Ana Brennan, my grandmother’s trusted lawyer, had set up an emergency alert system.
If I did not manually cancel the safety alert within fifteen minutes, Ana would instantly transmit my live location and the video feed directly to the local police department.
