Chapter 6 - THE PURSUIT
I did not stop to think. I grabbed the files, stuffed them into a waterproof satchel, and ran straight out the door.
The night air was cool and sharp in my lungs. I did not go to the authorities. Not yet. If Julian had men everywhere, the police station might already be compromised. Instead I called Clara and told her to meet me at my father’s old safe house—a small, unmarked cottage deep in the woods outside the city, known to almost no one.
I drove fast, keeping to side streets, watching every vehicle behind me. Headlights appeared in my rear‑view mirror within minutes. Two dark sedans. No license plates. Moving fast. Following me.
My heart hammered. Julian had sent men. They meant to take the evidence. And likely to take me as well.
I accelerated. The cars accelerated with me. I took sharp turns, ran yellow lights, pushed my engine harder than I safely should. But they stayed with me. Closing the gap.
I dialed Clara while keeping one hand steady on the wheel. “Julian is onto us. He sent pursuit. I am being followed. Call the district attorney. Call everyone we trust. Tell them Julian Voss is attempting to flee and has sent men to silence me. Tell them to send officers to the safe house immediately.”
“Elena, do not go there alone—” Clara began, alarm rising in her voice.
“I have no choice,” I said. “It is the only place they will not immediately surround.”
I ended the call and focused entirely on driving. The road grew darker, narrower, winding upward through thick trees. The pursuers were gaining. One car pulled alongside, trying to force me off the road. I swerved, held firm, and kept climbing higher toward the safe house.
When I finally turned onto the long gravel drive, the two cars were seconds behind me. I slammed through the gate, skidded to a halt before the cottage, grabbed my satchel, and scrambled out. I locked the car. Ran to the cottage door. Unlocked it. Burst inside and bolted it shut just as tires crunched loudly on gravel outside.
They were here.
I backed away from the door, breath coming in short ragged gasps, clutching the satchel to my chest. Footsteps crunched on stones. Then heavy knocks.
“Mrs. Whitmore? We merely wish to speak with you. Open the door.”
I stayed silent. Picked up the heavy iron poker resting beside the fireplace. Held it tight.
“Break it down,” a second voice said coldly.
Wood splintered. The door gave way. Two men stepped inside—large, expressionless, wearing dark coats. They spotted me instantly.
“Hand over the satchel,” the first man said. “And no one needs to get hurt.”
I gripped the poker tighter, standing my ground. “Julian Voss will not get away with this. I have everything. Every transaction. Every confession. Your names are likely in his records too. Turn back now before you become accomplices to treason.”
The men exchanged glances. The second man stepped forward. “We are merely doing our jobs, Madam.”
He moved toward me. I swung the poker. He dodged it easily, caught my wrist in an iron grip, and twisted. Pain shot up my arm. The satchel fell from my grasp. He caught it before it hit the floor.
“Take it,” the first man said. “And bring her. Julian wants to see her before he leaves.”
They seized me. Dragged me out of the cottage and shoved me roughly into the backseat of one of the waiting cars. My head hit the window hard. Darkness flickered at the edges of my vision. My stomach churned. Our baby kicked violently inside me, as if sensing mortal danger.
As the car sped away, I caught one last glimpse down the road. Headlights. Bright blue and red flashing in the distance. Clara had gotten my message. The police were coming. But they were too late.
Julian’s men had the evidence. And they had me.
I slumped back against the leather seat, cold dread flooding through me. Julian had won. Unless… unless Victor had kept his word. Unless Margaret had found some way to alert the authorities to Julian’s flight plans. Unless Clara had managed to pass along enough information to stop him before his plane lifted off the tarmac.
May you like
One of the men pulled a phone from his pocket and made a call.
“We have the package and the girl. On our way to the airfield now. Be ready.”
