Chapter 156
Chapter 156:
Hilliard didn’t look at the child anymore. He looked directly at Kegan — and felt every remaining piece click into place with the cold precision of a lock engaging. The ghost. The arms dealer. The man with the resources and the reach to do the genuinely impossible.
“You forged the test,” Hilliard said. Not a question. A declaration.
Kegan smiled — a cold, sharp expression that stopped well short of his eyes. The smile of a man who had planned for exactly this moment.
“Prove it,” he said.
Cailin woke with a gasp, her body jerking upright as though she were still fighting the pull of the ocean. The air in the room was dry and sterile — nothing like the salt spray haunting her nightmares. Pain radiated sharply through her chest, her lungs burning with every shallow breath.
“Elia!” The name tore from her throat, raw and panicked. Her hands scrabbled at the stiff hospital sheets, searching.
“She is in the next room. Sleeping. Ashely is with her p>
The voice was low and steady. A heavy hand pressed gently onto her shoulder, grounding her. Cailin looked up, her vision blurring before sharpening on Kegan’s face. He looked exhausted — lines etched deep around his eyes — but his presence was solid and immovable.
Cailin sank back against the pillows, the adrenaline draining out of her all at once. The IV line swayed gently beside the bed. She closed her eyes and forced her heart to slow its hammering.
“Did they catch them?” she whispered, opening her eyes again. “The men on the boat p>
ո𝗼𝘷elѕ і𝘯 𝘵𝗿e𝗻𝖽 o𝘯.с𝗼𝘮
“The hired muscle? Yes. My men handed them to the police an hour ago,” Kegan said, pulling a chair closer to the bedside. “They aren’t talking yet — professionals, or at least paid well enough to stay quiet for now p>
“We need proof, Kegan. Hilliard won’t believe p>
“The boat talks p>
Kegan reached into the inner pocket of his tactical coat and produced a ruggedized tablet. He tapped the screen and held it up. It displayed a digital copy of a maritime registration document.
“The yacht Sea Witch,” Kegan said, his finger tracing the relevant line. “Registered owner: English Holdings LLC p>
Cailin stared at the name. The letters seemed to swim before snapping into a terrible, absolute clarity.
“English Holdings,” she breathed. “Charla’s family company p>
“It’s a shell company, buried deep — but my analysts dug it out,” Kegan said, his voice hardening. “This is the smoking gun, Cali. She didn’t just hire them. She provided the equipment. She gave them the means to take Elia p>
A commotion erupted in the hallway. Raised voices, the urgent squeak of rubber soles on linoleum.
“Mr. Holloway, you cannot go in there! The patient needs rest!” A nurse’s voice, shrill and desperate.
“Get out of my way p>
The door flew open and struck the wall stopper with a bang.
Hilliard stood in the frame. He looked like a man who had walked through something that hadn’t finished with him yet. His shirt was wrinkled and open at the collar, his tie long gone, his eyes dark and fixed solely on Cailin.
Kegan rose instantly and placed himself between Hilliard and the bed — a wall of muscle, unhurried and immovable.