Chapter 11 - Ghosts in the Concrete
Federal Correctional Institution, Allenwood, was not designed for comfort.
It was designed to break men.
Richard Harrington sat on a narrow cot in a cell that smelled of bleach and rust.
He was no longer the immaculate CEO on the cover of Forbes.
His hair was thinning.
His face was gaunt.
His expensive tailored suits had been replaced by a scratchy khaki uniform.
But his ego was still completely intact.
And his hatred for Khloe Cole was the only thing keeping him alive.
He stared at a smuggled newspaper clipping taped to the concrete wall.
It was a picture of Khloe.
She was smiling, standing in front of a rendering for a massive new skyscraper.
The Lily Tower.
It was the most ambitious commercial project in Philadelphia’s history.
And she was building it with the remnants of his empire.
Richard clenched his jaw until his teeth ached.
He reached under his thin mattress and pulled out a burner phone.
It had cost him three months of commissary funds and a dangerous favor from a dirty guard.
He dialed a heavily encrypted number.
It rang twice before a gravelly voice answered.
“You shouldn't be calling this number, Ricky.”
Marcus Thorne didn't sound pleased.
Marcus was a fixer.
He was the man Richard used to hire to make union problems disappear.
He operated in the shadows, dealing in blackmail, sabotage, and intimidation.
“I need a favor, Marcus.”
Richard’s voice was a desperate hiss.
“I don't do favors for inmates,” Marcus replied coldly. “Especially broke ones.”
“I’m not broke,” Richard lied, his eyes darting toward the cell door.
“I have a blind account in Panama that the Feds missed.”
“There’s five million in it.”
“I want Khloe Cole’s new tower stopped.”
Silence hung on the line for a long moment.
“How stopped?” Marcus finally asked.
“Permit delays. Supply chain failures. Union walkouts.”
Richard smiled in the dark, his eyes gleaming with malice.
“I want her to bleed millions every single week.”
“I want her to lose the board’s confidence.”
“I want her to watch that building collapse before it even gets off the ground.”
“Five million,” Marcus repeated, calculating the risk.
“Half now. Half when the site shuts down.”
“Done,” Richard whispered.
He hung up the phone and slid it back under the mattress.
He leaned his head back against the cold concrete wall.
Khloe thought she had won.
May you like
She thought the war was over.
But Richard was about to remind her that even a caged animal has teeth.
