Chapter 6 - THE RANSOM DROP AT THE PIERThe rain began to fall in sheets, lashing against the windshield of Marcus’s armored SUV as we tore down the coastal highway toward the old abandoned ferry terminal at the edge of the city’s industrial harbor.
Inside the vehicle, Nathan sat in the passenger seat, his phone pressed to his ear, his face carved from pure, unyielding granite. The veins in his neck stood out like thick cords.
"If she has so much as a single scratch on her, Richard, I will personally dismember you and feed you to the sharks," Nathan spoke into the phone, his voice so dangerously calm that even Marcus flinched behind the wheel.
A raspy, distorted laugh echoed through the speaker.
“Tough words, nephew-in-law,” Richard Sterling’s voice hissed over the line. “But right now, I hold all the cards. Twenty-two percent of your company, and one four-year-old heiress. You want her back? Come to Pier 44. Alone. Bring the biometric master-key drive from your corporate vault. No police. No Marcus.”
The line went dead with a sharp click.
Nathan lowered the phone slowly, his eyes burning with a terrifying, protective fury.
"Mr. Cole, it’s a trap," Marcus said tightly, gripping the steering wheel. "If you walk onto that pier alone with the master key, they’ll strip you of your company assets, force you to sign over the trust provisions, and eliminate you all."
"I don't care about the company, Marcus," Nathan said, turning his head slowly to look out the rain-streaked window. "I don't care about the money, the board, or the empire. If I lose Lily, or Grace... I have nothing left anyway."
I sat in the backseat, clutching a small, cold metal object in my palm—a hidden tracking beacon Marcus had managed to slip into my pocket before we left the estate. My shoulders still ached from the previous attacks, but all the pain had vanished, replaced by a mother’s primal rage.
"We go together," I said, my voice cutting through the hum of the engine.
Nathan turned around, looking at me with shock. "Grace, no. It’s too dangerous."
"She is my daughter too, Nathan," I said, leaning forward between the front seats. "Richard thinks we’re helpless because we’re women, because we’re poor, because we’re outsiders. Let him underestimate us. That’s our advantage."
Nathan stared at me for a long moment. Then, a slow, grim smile touched the corners of his mouth—the same smile I had fallen in love with seven years ago when we faced the world with nothing in our pockets.
"Alright," Nathan nodded, unlocking the glove compartment and pulling out a heavy, matte-black tactical sidearm. He checked the magazine, chambered a round, and handed it to me. "Do you know how to use one of these?"
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"My father was a hunting guide in the northern woods," I said coldly, taking the weapon and checking the safety. "I know how to aim."
The SUV pulled to a screeching halt in the shadows of a rusting crane, a quarter-mile away from Pier 44. The rain poured down in torrents, masking our approach as we slipped out into the freezing darkness.
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