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My fingers tighten around the “oh shit” bar of the SUV. “That's a warranted concern, I suppose. But I'll keep my cool. If I shoot him, then his guys will shoot me, no matter how much they like me—”

“Which they don't.”

I chuckle, a bit of the building tightness in my muscles and the single-minded drive to hurt Birmingham dissipating. “You're kidding me, right? Everyone loves me. I'm the fun one.”

“And that makes me what?”

“The dad. Plus, they like me because I always pay when we go out.” My smile drops. “Guess that won't be happening again.”

“Why do you say that?” Tank keeps his gaze forward as we approach the White House. “Get your IDs ready.”

I toss mine to the dash and reach back for Sam's. “Because I'm not rich anymore. I have to live like….”

“The rest of us?” Tank laughs as he hands all the security badges to the gate guard, who inspects each one carefully before looking into the back seat.

“Madam Vice President,” he says with a dip of his chin. “Is the president expecting you?”

“I have no doubt that he is,” she says, her tone even, void of any emotion.

The SUV inches forward, nearly hitting the rear bumper of the one in front of us as the gate opens wide, allowing our caravan access.

“I'm assuming he'll be in the residence side,” Randi says. “Go through the side entrance.”

Tank nods and presses on the gas once we're clear of the gate.

“And you know you're wrong, right?” Randi says.

“About what?” I ask. I lean forward to get the full view of the iconic building as it grows larger through the windshield. Examining the property, I identify the extensive security presence on the grounds and on the roof, massive guns at their sides.

“Just because your mother said you were out of the family doesn't mean that it actually happened. Do you remember who set up the original trust?”

“My grandfather, I think.”

“Well, there you go. She actually has no rights over your trust unless he made her some kind of advisor or trustee. Plus, there is a crap ton of paperwork involved that has to be signed and filed to remove someone's access.”

“No shit,” I mutter to myself. “You mean this whole time I didn’t have anything to worry about?”

“All you had to do was google it, Trouble.”

“Live and learn, I guess.”

“Can you two discuss this later?” I want to snap back at Sam for interrupting, but he's right. There's a time and place to talk about my inheritance, and that sure as hell isn’t now. “We need all our heads in the game. Who knows what else Birmingham has up his sleeve?”

Nodding in agreement, I reach for the door handle and push it open as Tank shoves the gearshift into Park. The early morning breeze offers little relief from the heavy humid heat. Even at five in the morning, it's still fucking hot. Immediately I sense sweat beading along the nape of my neck and along my temples.

The other two SUVs have already parked, and the teams inside have unloaded, ready to escort Randi and keep her safe. They don’t know the full extent of what’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, only that a threat was sensed and security was heightened.

Leaving Sam to open his own damn door, I stride around the Suburban and tug Randi's open. I wait, keeping the door held open wide for her to exit, but she doesn't move.

“Randi?”

“She's safe now,” she says to no one in particular. “But what’s to say it won't happen again? What if she's taken again and Shawn isn't there to give us the location?”

“It's part of the job, Randi,” Sam says somewhere behind me. “But after today, once Birmingham steps down, the threat to her lessens significantly. Once he steps down, he loses all standing, any leverage he had with those with power here in DC. I wouldn’t be surprised if they turn their focus to silencing him, to be honest.”

“Will it be enough?” Finally acknowledging my presence, she turns in the seat, allowing her legs to dangle outside the door. “I don't know if I can go through with this.”

“You don't have a choice.”