Chapter 5 - THE CORNERED BEASTS
“The truth was out, but the monsters weren't going down without a fight. In their desperation, they targeted the only innocent soul who saved me.”
The ballroom descended into absolute chaos.
Federal agents, whom Nathan had secretly briefed earlier that afternoon using Arthur’s backup data, flooded the stage. They grabbed Julian Croft, forcing his arms behind his back as he cursed and struggled.
"You're ruined, Nathan! You hear me? You're dead anyway!" Julian screamed as he was dragged away in handcuffs.
Sophia, realizing her empire had crumbled in a matter of seconds, backed away toward the edge of the stage. Her eyes darted around like a trapped animal. Before the agents could reach her, she slipped through the backstage curtains, disappearing into the labyrinth of the hotel's service corridors.
Nathan tried to follow, but his newly recovered legs, still weak from months of disuse, buckled slightly under the sudden strain. He caught himself on the podium.
"Nathan!" Arthur’s voice came through his earpiece. Arthur and Clara were waiting in a secure van outside the hotel. "Don't push yourself. The feds have the exits blocked. She has nowhere to go."
"I want her caught, Arthur," Nathan breathed, his chest heaving. "She killed Marcus. She almost killed me."
"We're monitoring the police scanners," Arthur said. "Just stay put—"
Suddenly, Nathan heard a scuffle through the earpiece. A sharp intake of breath, and then a child’s scream.
"Grandpa! No! Let me go!" Clara’s voice screamed.
"Clara!" Arthur shouted. The sound of a heavy blow echoed through the line, followed by a groan from Arthur, and then the line went static.
Nathan’s heart stopped. "Arthur? Clara?!"
A cold voice came over the earpiece. It was Sophia. She was panting, her elegant voice replaced by a chilling, desperate hiss.
"You think you won, Nathan?" Sophia whispered. "You think you can just cast me aside and take everything back? I have the little brat. She's in the back of my car."
"Sophia, don't you dare touch her," Nathan roared, his voice shaking with a terrifying rage. "This is between us. Let her go!"
"If you want her alive, you come to the old Whitmore shipping warehouse on Pier 42. Alone. If I see a single police car, a single federal agent, or if you don't show up in thirty minutes, I'll drop this little girl into the Puget Sound with a chain around her neck. Let's see if your legs work fast enough to save her."
The line went dead.
Nathan stood on the stage, the flashing lights of the media still blinding him, the murmurs of the crowd a distant hum. His body was exhausted, his muscles screaming for rest. But looking at the empty wheelchair on the stage, he realized he didn't need luck anymore. He had his strength back, and he had a purpose.
He bypassed the federal agents, ignoring their shouts, and ran down the stairs.
May you like
Not jogged.
Ran.
