Chapter 3 - The Extraction
The Sterling estate was heavily fortified. High walls, electrified iron gates, and a security team loyal to whoever signed their checks. Usually, that was Julian. But Beatrice controlled the estate's domestic staff.
Julian wrapped a thick wool coat around Elena, practically carrying her as they slipped out the private balcony door. The poison had severely weakened her legs; every step was agony.
"Hold on to me," Julian whispered, guiding her down the wrought-iron spiral staircase that led to the private rose gardens.
As they reached the ground, the estate’s alarm system began to wail. A piercing, deafening siren tore through the quiet Hampton morning.
"She tripped the perimeter alarms," Julian grunted, pulling Elena behind a row of tall hedges. "She’s trying to lock the gates."
Two security guards with flashlights were already jogging down the gravel path toward the main driveway. Julian pulled out his phone and dialed his head of corporate security, Marcus—a former Marine who answered only to Julian.
"Marcus. Code Black at the Hamptons estate," Julian barked into the phone. "My mother has gone rogue. I need extraction. Now."
"Copy that, boss. I have an armored SUV two miles out. What’s the play?"
"Blow the east service gate. I'm taking my wife out through the woods."
Julian hung up and looked at Elena. She was sweating profusely, clutching her pregnant belly.
"Can you walk a hundred yards?" he asked, brushing the damp hair from her forehead.
"For my baby, I can run," she said fiercely, a spark of the vibrant woman he married returning to her eyes.
They moved through the dense, manicured forest at the edge of the property. Behind them, they could hear Victoria screaming orders at the guards. "Find them! He’s kidnapping her! She’s mentally unstable!"
Just as they reached the massive iron service gate, it was locked tight with a heavy padlock.
Suddenly, the roar of a V8 engine echoed through the trees. A matte-black SUV smashed backward into the wrought-iron gate, tearing it off its hinges with a screech of twisting metal.
Marcus jumped out, an assault rifle slung over his chest. "Get in!"
Julian lifted Elena into the backseat, climbing in right behind her as Marcus floored the accelerator. They sped away from the sprawling mansion, leaving the screaming sirens and Julian’s toxic family in the dust.
In the rearview mirror, Julian watched his childhood home shrink into the distance.
"Where to, Mr. Sterling?" Marcus asked, eyes scanning the road for pursuit.
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"The Manhattan penthouse?" Elena asked weakly.
"No," Julian said, his eyes cold and dark. "My mother knows the codes. She’ll have the NYPD waiting there, claiming I’ve kidnapped my pregnant, 'psychotic' wife. We go off the grid. Marcus, take us to the safehouse in the Catskills. And get a trauma doctor on the line. One who doesn't ask questions."
