Chapter 6 - Collision in the UndergroundThe Porsche slammed on its brakes, tires smoking against the concrete, screeching to a halt just inches from the driver’s side door of my SUV, blocking my exit entirely.
The door of the Cayenne flew open, and Sloane stepped out. She wasn't wearing her heels anymore; she had kicked them off, her bare feet hitting the oil-stained concrete. In her right hand, she clutched a heavy silver champagne bucket she must have grabbed from the foyer bar.
"You think you can just discard me?" Sloane screamed, her voice echoing maniacally off the concrete pillars. "After everything I sacrificed? After I molded your life into something respectable?"
"You didn't mold anything, Sloane. You hijacked it," I yelled back, keeping my body positioned between her and the passenger side where Maisie was huddled inside.
"Give me the flash drive, Graham! Give it to me right now, or I swear to God I will ram this car into your passenger door until there’s nothing left of your precious daughter!"
She raised the heavy silver bucket, smashing it against the driver’s side window of my SUV. Tempered glass spiderwebbed instantly, showering tiny crystals across the leather interior.
"Daddy!" Maisie screamed from inside.
Rage—hot, blinding, and absolute—supplanted every ounce of fear I had left. I didn't care about the company, the money, or the scandal anymore. There was only one thing that mattered.
Before Sloane could swing the bucket a second time, I lunged forward, tackling her around the waist. We crashed hard onto the concrete floor, the silver bucket clattering away across the oil slick.
She fought like a wildcat, scratching, biting, and screaming obscenities that I had never heard pass her lips before. Her manicured nails tore into my cheek, but I held her down, pinning her wrists to the ground with all my weight.
"Get off me! Let me go!" she shrieked, thrashing beneath me.
May you like
"It's over, Sloane," I panted, looking down into her distorted face. "The police are already on their way. Marcus called them the second we left the foyer."
At that exact moment, the wail of approaching sirens echoed down the ramp from the street above, cutting through the damp air of the garage like a blade of light.
Related Stories
