She survived two tours in Iraq, but threatening a billionaire’s empire might be her fatal mistake.

Writer’s Prompt
The walnut door clicked shut, sealing out the hum of the trading floor. Naomi Winoski crossed the plush carpet in three sharp strides and slammed her fist onto the mahogany desk. The impact cracked like a judge’s gavel.
Harry Stebbins didn’t flinch. He casually adjusted his gold cufflinks, his gaze lazy and cold. “What is it this time, Naomi?”
“Where’s the money you promised?”
A thin, venomous smile touched Stebbins’ lips. “You’ll never live to spend it. Clear out your desk. You’re fired.”
Naomi leaned down until she was inches from his face, her voice dropping to a gravelly, lethal whisper. “CNN will love the offshore ledgers, Harry. You don’t scare me. I did two tours in Fallujah while you were laundering blood money.”
Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and stormed out, her tactical boots eating up the hallway.
Behind her, Stebbins picked up his desk phone and hit a single speed-dial button. “It’s me. Take care of my problem. Quietly.”
Three minutes later, Naomi reached the subterranean parking garage. The fluorescent lights buzzed, casting long, sickly shadows across the concrete. Her senses flared—the unmistakable prickle of danger at the base of her neck.
Footsteps echoed behind her, quick and deliberate.
She reached the driver’s side of her sedan, her hand slipping inside her leather jacket toward the concealed nine-millimeter at her hip. Across the damp pavement, a silhouette emerged from behind a pillar, raising a silenced pistol. Naomi’s fingers locked onto her weapon’s grip just as the first shot shattered the quiet air.
How does Naomi survive the ambush—or does Stebbins’ reach prove fatal? Tell us your ending in the comments below.









