Chapter 9 - The Final TrapEthan slammed the laptop shut, his chest heaving as the terrifying reality washed over him. The threat wasn't neutralized. Celeste was just a foot soldier in a much larger, wealthier, and more dangerous conspiracy. And Sophie was still in danger.
He grabbed his phone, dialing his head of private security with trembling fingers.
"Secure the safehouse immediately! Get Sophie out of the estate—"
Before he could finish the sentence, the phone line went dead, replaced by a harsh, grating static hum.
“Call dropped.”
Ethan cursed under his breath, sprinting out of the police station toward his car. He hit the accelerator, his tires screeching against the asphalt as he tore down the highway toward the estate. The sky above was dark, heavy with rolling thunderclouds mirroring the storm brewing inside his mind.
As he pulled through the iron gates of his mansion, something was terribly wrong.
The security lights were completely dark. The grand double doors of the mansion stood wide open, blowing softly in the cool night wind.
Ethan drew his legal concealed carry pistol from his glove compartment, flicking off the safety with a practiced click. He crept through the front entrance, stepping over the shattered porcelain in the foyer. The house was dead silent, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
"Daddy?"
A small, weak voice echoed from the top of the grand staircase.
Ethan’s heart leapt into his throat. He bounded up the stairs two at a time, swinging his gun around toward the master suite.
Standing in the center of the bedroom, holding Sophie tightly by the hand, was a tall, silver-haired man in an expensive bespoke suit. He held a glass of scotch in one hand and a sleek remote control in the other.
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Surrounding them were three armed private mercenaries in full tactical gear.
"Welcome home, Mr. Vance," the silver-haired man said smoothly, taking a calm sip of his drink. "I am Viktor Vandenberg. And I believe you have something that belongs to my family."
