Chapter 4 - The Hunt in the Dark
A Devastated Mother and a Ruthless Tycoon Unleash Hell on NashvilleMaria fell to her knees on the marble steps outside the hotel, a guttural scream of absolute agony ripping from her throat. The midnight-blue gown tore against the stone, but she didn't care.
“Sophia! Oh my god, my baby! Sophia!” she cried, clutching her head as tears destroyed her makeup. “Julian took her! He’s going to kill her, Ethan! He’s going to kill my baby!”
Ethan stood over her, his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles cracked. The cold, calculated billionaire was gone. In his place was a beast that had been pushed too far. Julian Vance had violated his home. He had taken the child who had painted a sun on his face.
“He won't touch her, Maria. I swear to you on my life, he won't touch her,” Ethan growled, his voice vibrating with a terrifying rage. He pulled Maria to her feet, his grip firm and steadying. “Get in the car. Now.”
His private driver slammed on the gas, the armored SUV roaring through the rain-slicked streets of Nashville. Ethan was on his phone, calling every contact he had built over a decade of dominance. He called the chief of police, he called private military contractors he used for international builds, and he called his underground logistics team.
“I want a complete lockdown on every vehicle leaving the Davidson County area,” Ethan ordered into the phone, his face illuminated by the cold blue light of his screen. “If a car so much as breathes near the highway without an ID, I want it stopped. Find Julian Vance’s personal security details. Track his phone GPS. If you fail, I’ll fire every agency on my payroll by midnight.”
Within twenty minutes, the data started coming in. Julian Vance hadn't gone back to his hotel. His phone signal had vanished near the old warehouse district by the Cumberland River—the very district he was trying to buy out from Ethan.
“He’s at the old mill,” Ethan said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the map. “The abandoned industrial site. It’s isolated. No cameras.”
“I’m coming with you,” Maria said, her voice shaking but filled with a sudden, fierce maternal resolve.
“It’s too dangerous, Maria. Julian’s men are armed,” Ethan said.
“She is my daughter!” Maria screamed, looking at him with fierce, desperate eyes. “I would die for her! You don't know what it’s like to lose family, Ethan! You don't know!”
Ethan looked at her, a painful memory flashing through his eyes. “I do know, Maria. My younger brother died in a hit-and-run ten years ago. It was ruled an accident, but it happened the day after he refused to sell his shares of the family company to Julian’s father. I know exactly what it’s like. And I am not letting it happen again.”
Maria fell silent, seeing the deep, shared trauma in the billionaire’s eyes.
The SUV pulled up to the dark, rusted perimeter of the abandoned mill. The rain was pouring down in sheets, thunder rattling the sky. The factory was a monolith of decayed steel and shattered windows.
Ethan pulled a compact, legal firearm from the glove compartment, checking the magazine with a practiced, lethal efficiency. He looked at Maria. “Stay behind me. If anything happens, you run to the main road. Understand?”
They crept through the broken side door of the warehouse. The air inside smelled of rust, damp earth, and old oil. Faint yellow light flickered from the upper deck of the facility.
Suddenly, a child’s voice echoed through the massive, hollow space.
“Let me go! I want my mommy! Noodle is scared!”
“Shut up, kid,” a rough, mercenary voice barked from above.
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Maria tried to rush forward, but Ethan caught her arm, pulling her behind a massive iron pillar. He peered around the corner. On a raised metal catwalk, thirty feet above the concrete floor, two men in dark clothing stood guard. In the center of the platform, tied to a wooden chair, was Sophia. Her yellow raincoat was dirty, and her small face was covered in tears.
And standing right in front of her, holding the stuffed rabbit, Noodle, in one hand and a pocket knife in the other, was Julian Vance.
