Chapter 2 - The Midnight Escape
The Cross family empire was built on ruthless acquisitions, corporate espionage, and burying anyone who stood in our way. I knew how my mother operated. By the time she reached the bottom of the mountain, she would have a team of private fixers en route to the cabin. I had maybe an hour.
I threw Elena’s old duffel bag onto the bed and began stuffing it with whatever I could find: crackers, bottled water, the fleece sweaters the girls were wearing, and my own encrypted laptop.
“Girls, we are going to play a game,” I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. “We have to leave the cabin and go for a ride in my car. But we have to be very quiet. Can you do that?”
Mila nodded, clutching a stuffed bear I had found in the attic. Maya took my hand, her grip shockingly strong for a toddler. “Are the bad people coming back?” she asked.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” I promised.
I strapped them into the back of my Range Rover, using rolled-up blankets to secure them since I didn't have car seats. I didn't turn on the headlights. I navigated the treacherous, winding mountain road by moonlight alone. Five miles down the mountain, a pair of black SUVs sped past me going the opposite direction—heading straight for my cabin. My heart hammered against my ribs.
I didn't drive to my penthouse in the city. The city was my mother’s domain. Instead, I drove three hours south into the dense forests of Virginia, pulling up to a heavily fortified, off-the-grid compound owned by my head of security, Marcus.
Marcus was a former Navy SEAL who owed me his life after I paid for his daughter’s experimental heart surgery. If there was one man on earth I trusted, it was him.
He met me at the gate, an assault rifle slung casually over his shoulder. He took one look at the exhausted toddlers sleeping in the back seat and didn't ask a single question.
“Guest house is prepped, Boss,” Marcus said gruffly. “I’ll activate the perimeter sensors. Nobody gets within a mile of this place without me knowing.”
I carried the girls inside, laying them gently on a king-sized bed. As I pulled the duvet over them, I looked at their sleeping faces. The curve of their noses, the shape of their mouths. They were mine. Elena had been pregnant.
May you like
I walked into the kitchen, where Marcus was pouring two glasses of scotch.
“I need a war room, Marcus,” I said, taking the glass and downing it in one burn. “My family faked my wife’s cause of death, stole my children, and hid them for three years. I need to know exactly how they did it, and I need the people who helped them. We are going to burn the Cross empire to the ground.”
