“Stop overreacting, you’re ruining her day!” my mother hissed, grabbing my hair and pushing me over the balcony railing at my sister’s party. I blacked out. When I woke up, the upscale venue was surrounded by federal agents, and my mother was sobbing on her knees while my sister held a document and begged me…

to a ghost ship that didn’t even have a name yet.

At 3:00 AM, William made the most dangerous call of the night. He dialed Arthur Johnson, the CEO of Johnson Group, Boston’s largest real estate developer and Turner Enterprises’ absolute anchor client.

“William? It’s three in the morning. Is someone dead?” Arthur’s gravelly voice filled the room.

“Worse,continue reading …