Chapter 49 Ambushed
\-Celeste-
It was a new day, I was finally getting discharged today, and I was more than excited. Denise and David had been more than helpful to me, and still were.
“Let me help you with that,” Denise smiled, collecting my handbag from me as we made our way to the hospital’s underground lot.
For some odd reason, something didn’t feel right. Something felt like I was being watched.
“I feel like there’s something off,” I blurted out to Denise.
She waved it off. “It’s probably the paparazzi trying to get some photos. Dave said he saw a couple of them when he got here. Ignore them, they can’t come close.”
I nodded, but the feeling didn’t settle. This felt bigger than the paparazzi. It felt heavy and dark.
I was right.
The moment we approached David’s car, a loud shout rang out.
“There she is!”
Before I could react, something flew toward me. I twisted just in time—it missed.
It was a narrow miss.
I barely had time to process before a mob surged from their hiding places—crouched beneath cars, slipping out from between vehicles, and spilling from every shadowed corner of the lot.
My heart sank.
Denise grabbed my wrist.
We ran.
David ran faster.
He was quick to enter the car and start the engine. Denise was quick to hurl me in and shut the door.
The locks clicked.
The mob stormed the vehicle, climbing onto the hood, banging on the windows, pulling at the doors, screaming incoherently. They were wild, frantic, like I’d been pulled into the opening scene of a zombie movie.
One screamed wildly, holding up a cardboard paper with the words, “Murderer,” wickedly etched onto it.
A shiver ran down my spine.
My heart raced with the rhythm of an explosive, my legs felt weak even though I was sitting.
Someone threw a stone that probably gave the side of the car a dent, another hit the window with a long metal piece.
What was happening? I didn’t know. All I wanted to do was get out of here.
“Drive!” Denise's voice pierced through the ringing in my ears. I didn’t even realize I had nearly gone deaf.
“They’re on the hood, they’re everywhere—” David panicked. Denise didn’t care.
“Just fucking drive, damn it,” she cursed. She shielded me like they’d break in any second.
David seethed, mustering the courage and defiance to do what was required.
He stepped on the accelerator, letting the engine hum loudly as a warning, some backed off, and some remained.
He sped off.
They followed. They hurled more objects, one stubbornly clung to the hood until an unavoidable swerve sent him flying and rolling onto the ground.
I hope he’s alright.
We barely made it, but it was just the beginning.
I sat upright, my body trembled.
I stared at my shaky fingers, pale as ice. Denise grabbed them, giving me a gentle squeeze.
“You’re okay,” she assured me, but I was far from being okay.
My phone dinged with a notification at that moment—no, two. Three. Four. And then I lost count.
Denise grabbed it first. She read. Her eyes went wide with shock, her hands flew to her mouth.
I snatched the phone. It was a breaking news headline. It blurred, but the name “Ashford” was plastered at the top like a nightmare.
My eyes skimmed through. It read:
Breaking News: James Ashford In Deep Trouble, Ashford Empire in the Mud: The 25-Year-Old Factory Explosion Killed 20, injured 60— cover up revealed.
My heart failed at first, then my pulse grew loud.
Denise was saying something, but it was a blend of an incomprehensible hum.
My fingers reached the screen, thumbing, scrolling, and reading through the news.
My chest tightened like air was leaving my lungs.
There was no way this happened. There was no way my father was involved. I told myself.
But there was proof, more than necessary, from emails to transcripts, all there in black and white.
I forced myself to continue even though my mind screamed at me to stop and my fingers trembled.
Someone had released the file on social media, then tipped off the police with audio evidence. Now, investigations were ongoing.
In seconds, the screen blurred, then came back into focus when the device buzzed in my hand.
It was my grandmother’s secretary. I answered.
It was a directive from Grandmother. An emergency board meeting at once.
The car went silent, and even though David was still driving, it felt like he had seen the news, like he was deciding whether to have pity on me.
“I have to go to Headquarters.” I murmured, numb.
Maybe my numbness was too inappropriate for the situation. Maybe I needed a bigger punishment to understand the gravity of what my father had done because at that moment, a pickup truck appeared, ramming into the side of our small sedan.
The steering gave way.
The tires squealed and swerved, veering off our lane.
My heart stuttered, my pulse spiked.
The other night flashed before my eyes, but thankfully David managed control. The car cooperated. He drove.
They followed.
Panic swelled in my chest, my stomach twisted into knots.
I now understood how those movie characters being chased by the villains felt speed that felt too dangerous, overtaking like we knew we had second lives, traffic blaring and blurring with the wind.
It was wild. It was terrifying.
“Drive faster!” Denise screamed as I clutched the headrest in front of me for support. I wanted to say a prayer, but I couldn’t, I didn’t have the words either.
I turned to see them hot on our trail, chasing like we owed them something.
Perhaps it was me they wanted, perhaps I should let them take me.
I didn’t get a chance to decide because my phone rang again. This time it was Lucien. His voice was frantic, panicked, like he could see me.
“Where are you?” he demanded.
On a high-speed chase from the bad guys.
“I—I… We…” I paused, I swallowed. “We’re being chased. We’re somewhere—”
“Share your location,” he snapped.
I quickly did.
“Put the phone on speaker.”
I obeyed.
“David, if you can hear me, take the next turn, it’ll break their trail.”
David didn’t respond. Instead, he sped past the turn.
I blinked. Confused.
“Dave, you missed the turn,” Denise pointed.
“I’ve got this, Denise.” He murmured, gripping the wheels even tighter.
Maybe it was a mistake. He’s under a lot of pressure, he’s susceptible to mistakes.
“It’s fine.” Lucien’s voice rang out, “Take the next turn, it’s even closer to me, it will be easier there—”
He snapped.
“I’ve got this under control!” His jaw clenched. Sweat dripped.
Dense and I exchanged surprised glances.
She told him to do as told, but his eyes flashed with defiance. Meanwhile, those miscreants were starting to catch up with us.
“If you don’t take the turn, Dave, it will be difficult for me to help,” Lucien said.
Denise added.
“Just listen to him—”
His hands slammed the steering wheel, like he’d lost it entirely.
“I’ve got it! I’ve fucking got it, okay!”
I sat frozen, stunned. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror, and there it was again—that instinctual urge to protect me, no matter what.
I could see it. I could feel it.
“David,” I whispered, voice tight. “Please… for my sake, take the turn.”
Our eyes locked. His breath trembled. He hesitated… then finally took the turn. The plan worked—they lost our trail.
We met up with Lucien in another parking lot.
The moment I stepped out of the car, Lucien reached for me. Without a word, he hugged me.
It almost felt real. Perhaps it was.
“Are you alright?” he asked, voice low, eyes searching mine.
I nodded.
When I turned, David was already leaving with Denise, avoiding my gaze. I watched them drive off, feeling a nameless feeling in
chest. I turned away, turning my attention elsewhere. For now, I had to focus on figuring this out.
Lucien’s voice cut through my thoughts.
“I’ll drive you to headquarters.”