Chapter 6 - The Trap Closes
"You're staying here," Aiden stated, leaving no room for argument.
"Like hell I am!" Darra stood up, gripping Chloe’s small hand instinctively. "I’m not a prisoner, and I’m not getting dragged into whatever corporate bloodbath you're running from!"
"Look around you, Darra," Aiden stepped into her space, his gaze intense. "If you walk out those gates right now, you won't make it two blocks. The men who set that fire aren't leaving loose ends. They already know your name. They already know you carried Chloe out. To them, you’re a witness who needs to be permanently silenced."
Darra’s breath hitched. She thought of her empty apartment, her pathetic bank account, the sudden ambush by Marcus's men. Aiden wasn't lying. She was already marked.
"Fine," Darra said, her voice shaking with adrenaline and fear. "I stay. But on my terms. I’m not your prisoner, and I’m not your servant. I’m staying to protect Chloe."
Aiden studied her for a long moment, a flicker of grudging respect crossing his features. "Agreed. Marcus will set you up in the east wing guest suite. You’ll have access to the grounds, but you do not leave the perimeter without an armed detail."
For the next three days, life inside the Ashworth estate felt like living in a gilded golden cage. Darra spent her hours with Chloe, discovering the bright, brilliant mind hidden behind the little girl's silence. They communicated through clumsy sign language Darra picked up fast from visual cues, drawings, and expressive facial expressions. Chloe laughed for the first time since the fire on the second day, a bright, chiming sound that made Aiden pause outside the playroom door, listening like a man dying of thirst.
But outside the nursery walls, the tension inside the mansion was reaching a boiling point.
On the fourth night, a series of muffled explosions rocked the perimeter of the estate.
Darra was sitting on Chloe’s bed reading a picture book when the lights flickered and died, plunging the room into total darkness. Emergency red backup lighting kicked on, casting long, eerie shadows across the walls.
Bang. Bang.
Gunshots echoed from the lower courtyard, sharp and unmistakable.
Chloe whimpered, throwing her hands over her ears, her eyes wide with terror as she remembered the smoke and the fire.
"Hey, look at me," Darra whispered fiercely, grabbing Chloe’s small face in her hands, mirroring the exact gesture she had used in room 412. "I’ve got you. I am not going anywhere."
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The bedroom door flew open. Aiden stood in the doorway, a sleek 9mm pistol in his hand, his knuckles white. Blood was trickling down a shallow gash on his temple.
"They breached the western wall," Aiden said, his voice hard as iron. "We have to move. Now."
