Chapter 3 - THE RED LEDGERMy legs felt heavy, as if anchored to the wet concrete. The rain pounded against my face, cold and unforgiving.
"Mrs. Carter?" Sterling’s voice cut through the sound of the downpour. He stood by the open car door, holding a large black umbrella over my head, his smile tight and impatient. "We need to leave now. The temperature is dropping, and in your condition, catching a cold could be dangerous."
I stared at the tiny red laser beam dancing across Sterling's chest. The figure in the cathedral tower was waiting. Ethan was watching me.
"I... I left my purse inside," I gasped, clutching my stomach and faking a sudden contraction. "Ah! Pain..."
Sterling’s composure cracked for a split second. "Your purse is on your shoulder, Sarah."
"No—my medicine!" I cried out louder, taking two steps back away from the vehicle. "My prenatal vitamins and prescription pain relievers! They're on the pew near the casket!"
"Sarah, please, just get in the car. I can have my assistant fetch them—"
"No! I need them now!" I turned around abruptly and sprinted back toward the heavy wooden doors of the cathedral.
"Sarah! Stop!" Sterling shouted, his voice dropping all polite pretense. I heard his heavy footsteps behind me, chasing me up the granite steps.
Just as I reached the cathedral doors, a black van skidded to a halt at the curb with a screech of tires. Four men masked in tactical gear jumped out, drawing silenced pistols.
"Get the woman!" one of them yelled.
Sterling turned toward the masked men, drawing a firearm from his own shoulder holster. A deafening firefight erupted right on the steps of the cathedral. Bullets slammed into the ancient oak doors, showering me with splinters.
I didn't look back. I threw my weight against the door, slipped inside, and slammed the bolt shut from the inside.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Heavy fists pounded against the wood. "Open the door, Sarah! It’s your only chance!" Sterling screamed from the outside, his real colors exposed at last.
Panicking, I ran down the dark central aisle of the cathedral, past the empty coffin, and headed straight for the rear service exit that led to the underground maintenance catacombs. My pregnant body ached, every step sending sharp jolts up my spine, but adrenaline forced me forward.
I reached the narrow iron door leading to the street behind the sanctuary, shoved it open, and burst into the dark alleyway.
A tall figure stepped out of the shadows.
I opened my mouth to scream, but a gloved hand gently covered my lips.
"Shh... it’s me," a deep, familiar voice whispered into my ear.
I froze. The scent of sandalwood and rain filled my senses.
I turned around. Standing before me, clad in a dark tactical jacket with blood dripping from a bandage wrapped around his shoulder, was Ethan.
He was alive.
"Ethan!" I threw my arms around his neck, sobbing uncontrollably against his chest. "You're alive... you're really alive!"
"I'm here, baby. I'm here," Ethan murmured, kissing my hair tightly while keeping his eyes trained on the alley entrance. "I'm so sorry I had to put you through this. But we don't have time. Sterling betrayed us months ago. He was the one who leaked my location to Apex."
"He's outside right now with armed men!" I gasped, pulling back to look at his face. He had fresh scars near his hairline, and his eyes were sunken from exhaustion, but he was real.
"I know. My team is dealing with them," Ethan said, pulling a dark SUV around the corner. "Get in. We have thirty minutes before the LAPD tactical unit arrives, and half of that unit is on Apex’s payroll."
He helped me into the passenger seat, locked the doors, and slammed his foot on the accelerator. The SUV surged through the rainy streets of Los Angeles, weaving dangerously through traffic.
"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice shaking as I held my stomach.
"To the Malibu estate," Ethan said grimly. "We need the red ledger before Apex’s clean-up crew burns the house to the ground."
"Ethan, your mother... she tried to ruin everything," I said, my heart aching. "She forged a DNA test... she said our baby wasn't yours."
Ethan’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. "My mother sold her soul to Apex twenty years ago to cover up my father’s murder. She knew if you gave birth to a male heir, the family trust would automatically transfer all corporate voting rights to you upon my death. She needed to destroy your reputation so the board would disqualify you."
"And Madison?"
"Madison is a pawn," Ethan spat. "She does whatever Evelyn tells her for allowance money."
Twenty minutes later, the SUV roared up the winding driveway of our Malibu cliffside estate. The grand mansion sat dark against the stormy night sky, looking like a hollow shell of its former glory.
Ethan pulled out a suppressed handgun from under his seat and turned to me. "Stay in the car. I'll be back in two minutes."
"No!" I grabbed his sleeve. "I'm coming with you. I know where the false panel is—you told me in the letter!"
Ethan looked into my eyes, saw my determination, and nodded. "Stay behind me. Keep your head down."
We crept through the side entrance into the pitch-black library. The smell of smoke hung faintly in the air.
Ethan rushed to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, pulled a leather-bound copy of The Art of War, and a heavy wooden panel popped open with a click. Behind it lay a steel digital safe.
Ethan punched in a eight-digit code. The red light turned green.
He opened the safe door and pulled out a thick ledger bound in blood-red leather.
"Got it," Ethan breathed out a sigh of relief. "This contains every bank account, every bribe, every dirty politician connected to Apex—"
Suddenly, the lights in the library snapped on, blinding us both.
"I’m afraid that ledger belongs to me, nephew."
A sharp, cruel voice rang out from the doorway.
Standing there, flanked by three heavily armed men, was Victor Vance—Evelyn’s brother, the man who had driven Ethan’s car off the cliff.
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And in Victor's hand was a remote detonator, its red light blinking rhythmically.
"Hand over the book, Ethan," Victor sneered. "Or I detonate the charges planted under this foundation, and bury you, your pregnant wife, and your legacy under fifty feet of coastal rubble."
