CHAPTER 190

CHAPTER 190
The car swerved violently as Adrian took the corner too fast, tires screaming in protest against the asphalt. Amelia’s body jerked forward despite the seatbelt cutting into her shoulder, and she sucked in a sharp breath as the city lights blurred past the windows. The smell of burned rubber and sweat filled the enclosed space. Adrian’s hands gripped the steering wheel too tightly, knuckles white, his breathing uneven and loud, as if every breath scraped his lungs raw.

Vincent sat rigidly beside her, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed forward. He had not spoken since Adrian forced the car out of the parking lot. He knew better than to provoke a man who had already crossed the line from ambition into madness. One wrong word could tip the balance completely.

“Slow down,” Vincent said finally, his voice calm but firm. “You’ll crash us all.”

Adrian laughed, a sharp, fractured sound that didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t get to give orders anymore,” he snapped. “Not after everything you took from me.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Vincent replied evenly. “You destroyed yourself.”

The gun lay on the passenger seat beside Adrian, within easy reach. Amelia’s eyes flicked toward it involuntarily, her chest tightening every time the car jolted. Her hands trembled in her lap, but she forced herself to stay still. Panic would only make things worse.

Adrian slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “You were supposed to fall,” he shouted. “The company was supposed to be mine. Viviana believed in me. I planned everything perfectly.”

Amelia swallowed. “You planned to drug me,” she said quietly. “You planned to ruin my life.”

Adrian glanced at her, his eyes wild, unfocused. “You were collateral,” he said coldly. “You were never supposed to fight back.”

Her breath hitched, but she refused to cry. Not now. Not while Vincent was beside her, not while Adrian was this unstable.

The car sped through a red light, horns blaring as other drivers slammed their brakes. Adrian didn’t slow down. He drove like a man running from the end of the world, convinced that speed alone could outrun consequence.

He did not take the highway.

The moment he cleared the city limits, he veered sharply off the main road, gravel spraying violently beneath the tires as the car jolted onto a narrow dirt path. Amelia cried out despite herself, her hands gripping the seat as the vehicle bounced violently, branches scraping against the sides. The headlights cut through darkness and dust, illuminating nothing but uneven ground and endless shadows.

Vincent understood immediately.

This was not panic driving.

This was intentional.

Adrian knew exactly where he was going.

The road narrowed further, swallowed by tall grass and dense vegetation. Trees rose on both sides, thick and unmapped, their branches locking overhead like a closing mouth. No streetlights. No signs. No houses. Just wilderness and isolation. The engine growled as Adrian pushed deeper, the path becoming rougher, wilder, until even Amelia - who knew nothing about terrain or escape routes - felt the truth settle coldly in her bones.

No one would stumble upon this place.

The car finally slowed, headlights revealing a small clearing ahead. A wooden cabin emerged from the darkness, half-hidden by trees and ivy, its silhouette weathered but unmistakably maintained. Smoke stains marked the chimney. The place had been used recently.

Adrian stopped the car.

The silence that followed was deafening.

He reached for the gun.

“Out,” he said flatly. “Hands where I can see them.”

Amelia’s breath trembled as she obeyed, her legs unsteady when she stepped onto the cold earth. Vincent followed slowly, deliberately, his movements controlled. Adrian watched them with the manic focus of someone who had crossed a line and no longer cared about retreat.

“Inside,” Adrian ordered.

He herded them toward the cabin, gun raised, eyes darting between them and the trees as if he half-expected the forest itself to betray him. The door creaked open, revealing a sparse interior - wooden floors, a table, a few chairs, a couch, shelves stocked with supplies. This wasn’t a hideout built in desperation.

This was preparation.

Vincent took it in with a businessman’s eye even now.

“So,” he said calmly, once the door shut behind them, “you planned this too.”

Adrian laughed, a short, sharp sound that echoed unnaturally in the cabin. “Of course I did.”

Vincent exhaled slowly. “I always admired that about you. You never believed in a single plan. Plan A failed, so you built Plan B. When that wasn’t enough, you added C, D, and E.”

Adrian’s grin widened. “You taught me that.”

“Yes,” Vincent replied, his voice steady despite the gun trained on them. “I told you a successful businessman never relies on a single outcome. I thought I was helping you survive the corporate world.”

He paused, eyes locking with Adrian’s.

“I didn’t realize I was teaching you how to destroy me.”

Adrian tilted his head, amused. “That’s one of the few good things I got from you,” he said mockingly. “You made me thorough.”

He gestured around the cabin. “They’ll never find you here. The land isn’t registered in my name. No one knows this place exists. And now…”his eyes gleamed,“we have time.”

Amelia’s stomach twisted.

Across the city, Cole Entertainment had transformed into a command center.

Screens glowed with satellite maps, traffic feeds, and police channels. Officers moved in tight formations, voices sharp and clipped. Matteo stood at the center of it all, barely aware of the hours slipping by. His focus was singular, brutal.

Find them.

When his parents arrived, he didn’t hear them at first.

Samantha was the one who reached him.

She wrapped her arms around him without warning, pulling him into a fierce embrace that broke through the iron wall he had built around himself. Matteo stiffened for a second, then sagged into her, gripping her shoulders as if grounding himself.

“They’ll be okay,” she said firmly, pressing her cheek against his temple. “They will be.”

“I know,” Matteo said, though his voice wavered. “I know. I just….”

Philippe stepped in, already issuing orders to his own security team. “My people are coordinating with the police. We’re expanding the search radius. Adrian won’t outrun this.”

Felix nodded, feeding information into the system. “We’re tracking every possible route. He avoided highways. Likely headed somewhere secluded.”

Matteo straightened, the warmth of his mother’s embrace settling into resolve. “He planned this. He’ll have a hideout.”

“We’ll find it,” Philippe said. “Together.”

Matteo looked back at the map, jaw clenched. “We have to.”

Meanwhile at the cole mansion, Viviana’s world collapsed in her living room.

The television blared headlines she could barely process, the anchor’s voice slicing through her denial.

“…armed and dangerous… driver fatally shot… whereabouts unknown…”

She held her phone tightly in her hand, trying to dial Adrians number but the number kept going to voicemail.

“Adrian? What are you doing? Why aren’t you answering… what has gotten into you?”

She muttered to herself after trying it for the fifth time and having it go straight to voicemail.. 

Her hands shook violently as she dropped the phone, clutching her stomach instinctively, a protective gesture she hadn’t even realized she’d learned. The realization hit her like ice.

She stroked her abdomen unconsciously, as if reassuring her unborn baby. But it did not seem towork either. The father of her child had crossed into something irredeemable.

He had killed someone.

Not threatened.

Not manipulated.

Killed.

Viviana slid to the floor, sobbing, the weight of her choices crashing down on her all at once. This wasn’t ambition anymore. This wasn’t revenge. This was madness.

And she had helped unleash it.

Back in the cabin, Adrian paced like a caged animal, gun never leaving his hand.

“They think it’s over,” he muttered. “They think I’ve lost.”

Vincent remained seated, calm in a way that infuriated him. “You have.”

Adrian stopped abruptly. “No,” he said sharply. “I haven’t. This is just another plan.”

Amelia’s heart hammered painfully as she listened.

“I still have moves,” Adrian continued. “I always do.”

Vincent met his gaze evenly. “And every move you make now will only deepen the hole you’re standing in.”

Adrian laughed again, but this time the sound was brittle. “You always talked like that,” he snapped. “Like you were inevitable.”

“You confused inevitability with patience,” Vincent replied. “And patience always outlasts desperation.”

Adrian raised the gun slightly, his hand shaking now despite himself. “You think you’ve won because you’re calm?”

“No,” Vincent said softly. “I think you’ve lost because you aren’t.”

The silence pressed in.

Outside, the forest shifted with the wind, branches whispering like witnesses waiting to testify.