Chapter 7 - THE BLOODLINE SECRET
The world flipped upside down.
Glass shattered into a million sparkling diamonds. The sound of crushing metal was deafening. The Maybach spun out of control, slamming violently into a concrete barrier before coming to a dead stop.
Smoke filled the vehicle. My head throbbed with intense pain, and warmth trickled down my forehead.
"Mara..." a weak voice called out.
I blinked through the smoke. Adrian was pinned under the crushed roof on his side. Blood was pouring from a gash on his temple, staining his white shirt crimson.
"Adrian!" I screamed, struggling against my seatbelt. I unbuckled myself and crawled over the shattered center console toward him. "Adrian, hold on!"
"Get out..." Adrian gasped, his breath ragged. "They... they came for me... Get out, Mara..."
Outside the ruined car, heavy footsteps approached on the wet asphalt. Through the cracked, tinted glass, I saw three men in dark tactical gear carrying suppressed automatic rifles.
They were here to finish the job.
Panicking, I grabbed Adrian’s bare hand. "I'm not leaving you!"
The moment my skin locked with his, the adrenaline rush tore through both our bodies. The pain in my head dulled, replaced by an intoxicating surge of raw energy. Adrian’s eyes snapped open, fully alert, his nerve pathways firing like live wires.
"On three," Adrian growled, his strength returning as my touch flooded his system.
He kicked his crushed door open with immense force, throwing the door into the lead gunman! The man flew backward onto the pavement.
Adrian grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the wreckage just as the other two gunmen opened fire! Bullets sparked off the metal of the Maybach.
We sprinted into a dark, narrow alleyway behind an abandoned warehouse district. Rain poured down on us, washing the blood from our faces. Adrian’s security detail had been cut off in the crash, leaving us completely isolated.
We hid behind a massive steel dumpster, breathing heavily in the dark.
"Who are they?" I sobbed, clutching my bleeding forehead. "Julian Sterling?"
"Yes," Adrian said, his jaw clenched tight. He was holding my hand firmly, refusing to let go. "He knows I suspended the merger. He knows I'm coming for him. He's desperate."
Suddenly, Adrian’s phone—a backup satellite device in his pocket—vibrated.
He answered it on speaker, holding it between us.
"Adrian," a frantic, familiar voice cried through the speaker. It was Dr. Brennan from St. Raphael's Medical Center.
"Doctor, what is it?" Adrian demanded into the phone. "Is Mara's grandmother alright?"
"Mr. Park, you need to listen to me very carefully," Dr. Brennan stammered, his voice terrified. "We just finished the DNA analysis and blood typing required for Miss Vance's grandmother's spinal tumor procedure."
I leaned closer to the phone. "Is Grandma Bee okay?!"
"Mara... your grandmother is fine, but... the blood work returned something impossible," Dr. Brennan whispered. "Your grandmother's genetic markers... she carries a rare, synthetic antibody. The exact same antibody that was cataloged in the medical files of the late Arthur Park—Adrian's father—twelve years ago!"
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My blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?!"
"Mara..." Dr. Brennan gasped. "Your grandmother wasn't just a patient. Twelve years ago, she was the lead biochemist at Sterling Global who developed the neurotoxin!"
