She was the kind of woman who meticulously plotted her escape routes long before the danger even started. She refused to leave herself exposed.
Late into the night, Sabrina Ward tossed and turned, gripped by a suffocating wave of anxiety.
Unable to sleep, she got out of bed and dialed Bella's number.
It went straight to voicemail.
Bella hadn't just turned off her phone; she had physically removed the SIM card from her primary device.
She couldn't afford a single distraction while pulling off a billion-dollar heist.
Let whoever needed her assume she was asleep and her phone was dead.
Hearing the automated voicemail, Sabrina's face tightened with worry.
For days, she had felt a deep, gnawing unease, convinced Bella was hiding something massive from her.
"Why are you still awake?"
The movement woke Martin Mercer. He sat up and draped a warm cardigan over Sabrina's shoulders.
"It's nothing," Sabrina sighed. "I had a bad dream and wanted to check on Bella, but her phone is off."
"She's an adult," Martin reasoned. "What is there to worry about at this hour? She's probably just asleep in her hotel. She's been under a lot of pressure at work. Just talk to her tomorrow. Don't wake her up in the middle of the night."
Thinking Martin made sense, Sabrina didn't press the issue.

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