Chapter 5 - The Trap is Sprung
"You drove?" Mara gasped, clutching the dashboard as Dante navigated the chaotic city traffic at breakneck speeds. "You haven't driven in eight months!"
"Desperate times, Quinn," Dante growled, his eyes locked on the road. "Did you get the data?"
Mara pulled out the drive. "Everything. Viktor confessed. He admitted he organized the bomb, and he admitted he ordered the hit on Owen."
Dante’s jaw clenched so tightly the muscle ticked. "He’s heading to the docks. That’s where his loyalists are concentrated. He knows the moment I get this data to the rest of the syndicate council, he’s a dead man. He’s going to try to flee the country."
"Then we stop him," Mara said, her fear completely replaced by a cold, burning desire for justice.
"No, I stop him," Dante corrected. "I'm dropping you off at the safe zone."
"Like hell you are!" Mara yelled, her chaotic nature flaring up. "He killed my brother, Dante! I am not sitting in some safehouse while you handle this. You need me. Who’s going to patch you up when you inevitably do something stupid?"
Dante glanced at her, a mixture of fury and profound respect warring in his eyes. "You are completely insane."
"I'm your caregiver," she corrected. "Now step on the gas."
They reached the Bellador shipping docks just as the sun began to set, casting long, bloody shadows across the shipping containers. Viktor’s private yacht was idling at Pier 4.
Dante rammed the SUV straight through the chain-link perimeter fence, scattering Viktor’s guards. The vehicle slammed into a stack of wooden pallets, coming to a halt just fifty yards from the yacht.
"Stay in the car," Dante ordered, reaching for the custom shotgun mounted beneath the dashboard.
"Not a chance," Mara said, opening her door.
As they exited the vehicle, the remaining loyalist guards opened fire. Dante used the open car door as cover, systematically taking down the shooters with terrifying, lethal accuracy. But they were pinned down. More guards were emerging from the yacht.
"We need to cut off their escape route!" Mara shouted over the gunfire. She spotted a massive crane operator’s cabin nearby. The keys were dangling from the lock—left behind by a fleeing worker.
Mara bolted across the open asphalt.
"Mara, no!" Dante roared, trying to move, but his physical limitations anchored him to the spot. His heart seized with a terror he hadn't felt since the bomb—not for himself, but for her.
Bullets danced at Mara’s heels, but her chaotic luck held out. She scrambled up the steel ladder of the crane, burst into the cabin, and slammed her hand onto the emergency release lever for the overhead container cargo.
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A massive, multi-ton steel shipping container dropped from the sky, crushing the gangplank of Viktor’s yacht with a deafening screech of tearing metal.
The escape route was blocked.
