Chapter 2 - The Spider's WebWithin twenty minutes, the Blackwood Estate was transformed into a fortress. The heavy iron gates were bolted, the surveillance drones hummed through the torrential rain outside, and every guard was stationed at critical choke points.
I carried Emma into the private residential wing, bypassing the grand sitting rooms and heading straight for the secure medical suite. I had my personal physician, Dr. Hayes, check her over. She was freezing, malnourished, and exhausted, but thankfully unharmed.
While Hayes administered warm electrolytes and wrapped her in thermal blankets, I retreated to my private command center behind the study.
The monitors flickered with live feeds of the estate's perimeter. That was when my phone buzzed.
An incoming encrypted call from Vincent Cross.
I stared at the screen, letting it ring twice before swiping to answer. I kept my breathing steady, masking the volcano of rage threatening to erupt inside me.
"Cross," I answered smoothly.
“Boss,” Cross’s oily, smooth voice slithered through the speaker against the background hiss of heavy rainfall. “I heard you’re locked down tight tonight. Everything alright at the estate? I tried sending a cleaning crew over just to tidy up after the storm damage, but your men turned them away.”
A grim, humorless smile touched my lips. "A cleaning crew, Vincent? That's funny. I didn't hire any cleaners."
There was a fraction of a second's pause on the line—a tiny, micro-hesitation that only a predator tracking another predator would notice.
“Ah, a miscommunication then,” Cross recovered smoothly, though his tone grew slightly sharper. “You know how it is with these local temp agencies. Speaking of which... did a little package happen to arrive at your door? Something small, with honey-brown hair?”
The mask dropped. The pretense of corporate loyalty evaporated into the static.
"You sent a child into a war zone, Cross," I whispered, every word dripping with a lethal, frozen promise. "You walked a seven-year-old girl through a Category 4 storm straight into the home of a man you tried to blow up a week ago. Are you that desperate to die?"
“I’m not the one who’s desperate, Lucas,” Cross laughed, a dark, chilling sound. “Look out your eastern study window. Right now.”
My instincts screamed. I whipped around, sprinting out of the command center and down the corridor toward the east wing. I threw open the French doors of my study and stared out into the pitch-black courtyard.
Through the sheets of blinding rain, parked just outside the outer perimeter gates, sat a black convoy of unmarked SUVs.
May you like
And on top of the roof of the nearest vehicle, a laser sight blinked to life, painting a bright red dot directly across the glass of my window.
“She has something of mine, Lucas,” Cross’s voice whispered in my ear, now echoing faintly from the courtyard speakers he had somehow patched into. “Give me the girl, and the flash drive she’s carrying, and I’ll let you and your loyal guards walk away from the ashes.”
