Chapter 9: Counter-Leverage

The hum of my server rack was the only sound in my home office.

It was past midnight, the city outside a blur of distant lights.

I powered up my encrypted satellite phone, the kind I kept for truly sensitive matters.

My fingers hesitated over the contact labeled “Vance.”

Mr. Vance was a private investigator, discreet and exceptionally resourceful, a man I’d used once before for due diligence on a particularly opaque international merger.

He operated in the shadows, far from the glare of official channels.

This was a step I hadn’t wanted to take.

Engaging a private investigator, digging into the deeply personal and incriminating details of my father’s life, felt dirty, like I was descending into his world.

It was a personal cruelty, forcing myself to embrace tactics I despised, but survival left no other choice.

I had to become just as ruthless, just as strategic.

The phone rang twice, then a clipped, professional voice answered.

“Vance.”

“Mr. Vance, this is Sarah Jensen,” I said, my voice low and steady.

“I have a… delicate matter. Highly confidential.”

“Go on,” he prompted, no hint of surprise in his tone.

“I need a comprehensive background report on Robert Jensen,” I instructed, laying out the parameters carefully.

“Every detail. His current whereabouts, his associates, any known addresses, financial dealings.”

I paused, then pushed the words out.

“And specifically, I need everything you can find on a woman named Denise, and her two children, Billy and Sarah. They live in rural Georgia.”

Silence stretched on the line.

He was processing the implications.

“This sounds like a family matter, Ms. Jensen,” Vance said, a note of caution in his voice.

“Those can get… complicated.”

“It’s complicated,” I agreed.

“But it’s also critical. I need every vulnerability, every hidden connection. Dig deep. Leave no stone unturned.”

“The budget?” he asked.

“Unlimited,” I replied without hesitation.

“I need this fast. As fast as you can manage.”

“Understood,” he said.

“Expect my first report in 48 hours.”

The line clicked dead.

I put the satellite phone away, my hands still faintly trembling.

Robert thought he held all the cards, believing my past was his sole leverage.

He had no idea I was now building a counter-arsenal, turning his own tactics against him.

He was about to discover that his secrets were not nearly as safe as he imagined.

My path to survival was no longer about defense, but about a calculated, surgical strike.

I was ready to fight fire with fire, even if it meant getting scorched in the process.