Chapter 123
Chapter 123:
“She is my family!” Anson yelled, the sound of his own engine roaring in the background as he sprinted toward his Porsche. “I’m going p>
“You’re a liability. If you show up p>
Anson threw the phone onto the passenger seat and floored the accelerator. He wasn’t going to let Dallas be the hero. Not this time.
“Zane,” Dallas said into his comms, gripping the steering wheel until the leather groaned. “Anson Hyde is inbound to the location — armed and unstable. Have overwatch track him. Do not intercept unless he poses a direct threat to the hostage p>
While two men, driven by two very different kinds of possession, raced toward the same point on the map, the object of their obsession was fighting her own quiet battle in the warehouse.
Eliza watched Jared pace, the sting of the slap still burning in her cheek. She needed to understand him.
“Claudine didn’t send you, did she?” she asked softly.
Jared stopped. “That witch? She cut me loose without a dime when the company tanked. Said security was a ‘luxury p>
𝗝𝘰in 𝗼ur 𝘤𝘰m𝗺𝗎ni𝘁𝗒 𝘰ո
“So this is just about money?” she pressed.
“It’s about showing them,” Jared said, staring down at the dark water through the floorboards. “The rich don’t bleed different. You think you’re gods because you have black cards. But gravity works the same on everyone p>
He checked his watch. A cold, empty smile spread across his face.
“He’s here p>
Eliza’s heart hammered against her ribs.
Jared walked to the edge of the loading bay and cocked his pistol. The sound was loud, mechanical, final. Then another sound cut through the howl of the wind — engines. Not one, but two, approaching from different directions. Tires screeching on gravel.
Jared crossed to the rusted window frame and looked out. His smile widened into something malicious.
“Well, look at that,” he laughed. “Two birds p>
The air at the docks was freezing, carrying the full bite of the Atlantic. Dallas stepped out of the Aston Martin with his hands raised. The duffel bags and briefcase sat at his feet. He wore no jacket — just a black dress shirt that whipped around his torso in the wind.
“I’m here!” Dallas shouted, his voice cutting through the gale. “Let her go p>
Before Jared could respond, Anson’s Porsche screeched to a halt ten yards behind Dallas. Anson scrambled out, a revolver shaking in his hand.
“Drop it, Solder!” Anson yelled, aiming wildly toward the warehouse shadows.
“You idiot,” Dallas hissed under his breath.
Jared stepped out from the darkness of the warehouse entrance. He had Eliza in front of him, his arm locked around her throat and the barrel of his gun pressed hard against her temple.
Eliza’s face was pale, a dark bruise forming on her cheekbone. Her eyes found Dallas’s. There was fear in them — yes — but also an overwhelming relief.
“Put the gun down, hero,” Jared shouted at Anson, “or her brains paint the dock p>
Dallas turned his head slightly, fixing Anson with a glare. “Put it down. Now p>
“I have a shot,” Anson argued, his voice pitched high and unsteady. “I can take him p>