Chapter 198
Ethan's POV
I stared at her, my mind racing. Five minutes. Elena bound to that chair, Lila unconscious on the mattress, and Nancy with that knife glinting in her hand like a promise of violence.
The weight of what I'd done—what I'd helped orchestrate—crashed down on me all at once. I'd told myself I was protecting Elena by going along with Nancy's plan.
But looking at Elena now, seeing the raw terror in her eyes as she stared at her unconscious daughter, I realized how catastrophically wrong I'd been.
"Well?" Nancy's voice cut through my paralysis like glass. "Make the call."
I pulled out my phone with trembling hands, trying to look like I was following orders. The device felt impossibly heavy, slick with the sweat from my palms.
"Speaker phone," Nancy commanded suddenly, her voice sharp with suspicion. "I want to hear every word."
My blood ran cold, but I nodded, selecting my head of security. I had to be careful, had to make this sound like I was following Nancy's orders.
I hit dial and waited, my heart hammering so hard I was sure Nancy could hear it. He picked up on the second ring.
"Boss?"
"It's Ethan," I said, putting on my most authoritative voice. "I need you and the team to maintain your positions on the lower floors. Stay alert for any suspicious activity, but do not interfere unless I give direct orders."
Nancy nodded slowly, seeming satisfied with the call.
"Understood, sir. We'll hold position."
"Good. And keep the perimeter secure. No one gets in or out without my authorization."
"Roger that, boss."
I hung up and slipped the phone back into my pocket, but Nancy was still watching me with those calculating eyes.
"I need to use the restroom," I said suddenly, gesturing toward a door in the corner of the warehouse space. "All this stress... my stomach..."
Nancy's eyes narrowed for a moment, then she waved dismissively. "Fine. Make it quick."
I nodded and walked toward the small bathroom, my mind racing. Once inside, I quickly closed the door and pulled out my phone, my fingers flying across the screen as I opened WhatsApp and typed a message to Julian:
[Elena and Lila kidnapped. Warehouse district, 47th and Industrial. 3rd floor. Come NOW. Armed and dangerous.]
I hit send, praying it would go through. The message showed "sending..." for what felt like an eternity before finally switching to "delivered."
I quickly deleted the conversation thread and flushed the toilet for cover, then returned to the main room.
"Feel better?" Nancy asked, her tone mocking.
"Much, thanks." I tried to keep my voice steady as I walked back toward my original position.
For the next few minutes, Nancy seemed calmer, pacing slowly around the room while keeping the knife trained on Elena. But I could see her mind working, processing something that didn't quite add up.
"You know," she said after a moment, her voice taking on that dangerous, silky quality I'd learned to fear, "I've been thinking about that phone call."
"What about it?" I tried to keep my voice casual.
"You were very specific about maintaining positions and securing the perimeter. Almost like you were... preparing for something."
"I was just being thorough—"
"Were you?" She stopped pacing and fixed me with that calculating stare. "Because a real stand-down order would have been simpler. 'Pull back, we're handling this internally, don't interfere.'"
I could feel sweat beading on my forehead. "Nancy, you're overthinking this—"
"And then there's that convenient bathroom break." Her eyes narrowed. "You seemed awfully eager to get some privacy."
"I told you, my stomach—"
"Give me your phone," she said suddenly.
"What?"
"Your phone. Give it to me." Her voice was steel wrapped in silk. "I want to see what you've been up to."
My mouth went dry. "Nancy, that's ridiculous. I made the call you asked for—"
"And now I'm asking for your phone." She stepped closer, the knife catching the dim light. "Unless there's something on there you don't want me to see?"
"Of course not, but it's my personal phone. Work contacts, family photos... I don't see why—"
"Then you won't mind me holding onto it." She held out her free hand. "Phone. Now."
I forced myself to look confused rather than terrified. "Nancy, this is paranoia. I'm on your side here—"
"Are you?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Because right now, I'm not so sure."
"I've done everything you asked—"
"Give me the fucking phone, Ethan!" she screamed suddenly, her composure cracking.
I took a step back, my hands raised. "Okay, okay. But Nancy, you're being unreasonable—"
"The phone!"
I reluctantly reached into my pocket, moving slowly, trying to buy time. But Nancy was beyond patience now. She lunged forward, and in the struggle, managed to grab the device from my hands.
"There," she panted, stepping back with the phone clutched in her fist. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
My heart was pounding as I watched her examine the device. She checked the recent call logs first, then started looking through my apps.
"WhatsApp was used recently," she said, her voice dangerously quiet. "Very recently. After our little bathroom break."
"Nancy, I don't know what you're talking about—"
"The timestamp shows activity just minutes ago." Her eyes snapped up to mine. "Want to explain that?"
"Maybe it auto-updated or something—"
"Bullshit." She was scrolling through the app now. "And look at this—deleted messages. Recent deletions."
My blood turned to ice. Even though I'd deleted the conversation, the app still showed that messages had been recently deleted.
"You sent someone a message," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "While you were in that bathroom. You warned someone."
"Nancy, you're being paranoid—"
Just then, my phone buzzed in her hands. A notification appeared on the lock screen, and I watched Nancy's face change as she read it:
Julian Sterling - WhatsApp
I put a tracker in Lila's backpack. I'm already nearby.
For a moment, the room was dead silent except for Elena's ragged breathing and the distant sound of wind through the broken shutters.
"He's... he's already nearby?" Nancy's voice was barely a whisper, her hands starting to shake. "A tracker? You knew about this!"
"Nancy, listen to me—"
"NO!" She spun toward me, knife raised, her carefully maintained composure finally cracking. "You played me! This whole time, you were playing me!"
"You were setting me up!" Her voice rose to a shriek. "This was all a trap!"
As if summoned by her words, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the stairwell, sharp and unmistakable in the evening air. Multiple sets, moving fast and purposeful.
Then, from somewhere below us, came the sharp crack of gunfire. Shouts. The sound of tactical teams engaging.
Nancy's breathing became rapid and shallow, her eyes darting between me, Elena, and the door. "No, no, no... this wasn't supposed to happen like this."
"Nancy, it's over," I said quietly, trying to keep my voice calm. "Put down the knife. Don't make this worse."
But she was beyond reasoning now. She lunged at me with the knife, and I barely managed to throw up my arms before the blade slashed across my forearm. Pain shot through me as blood began to seep through my shirt.
"You BETRAYED me!" Nancy screamed, her knee driving into my stomach with vicious precision.
The air rushed out of my lungs in a painful whoosh. I doubled over, gasping, and Nancy pressed the knife against my neck, the cold metal biting into my skin.
"You think Julian can save them?" she hissed, her face inches from mine, spittle flying. "I'll kill them both before he even reaches this floor!"
The footsteps were getting closer now. I could hear tactical gear, weapons being readied, voices coordinating in low, urgent tones. The gunfire below had stopped, which meant Julian's team had secured the lower floors.
"Go to hell," I wheezed, tasting blood where I'd bitten my tongue.
Nancy's face twisted with fury, all pretense of control abandoned. She spun toward Elena, knife raised, her movements sharp and predatory.
"If I can't have my revenge," she snarled, "then at least I can make sure you don't get your happy ending."
The door burst open with a crash that seemed to shake the entire building.
Julian Sterling stood in the doorway like an avenging angel, flanked by armed security personnel, and time seemed to stop.