Chapter 127: Desperate Escape
"Evelyn, do exactly as I say."
Ryan’s heart twisted at the sound of her broken, desperate voice over the phone, punctuated by the heavy thuds of the killers kicking at the bathroom door. Normally casual and nonchalant, his voice now held a commanding, absolute authority.
"Go into the walk-in closet. Press the decorative pattern on the bottom left corner of the full-length mirror. It’s a biometric lock."
Evelyn didn't hesitate. She didn't even stop to wipe her tears. She ran barefoot into the closet while the hitmen outside sawed through the bathroom lock. Her fingers shook as she pressed the hidden switch.
With a soft click, the massive mirror slid aside, revealing a narrow passage.
"Get in! No matter what you hear, don't look back!" Ryan roared through the phone. "The tunnel leads to a hidden exit in the garage. There’s a black Land Rover parked there. It’s unlocked and armored. Get in, lock the doors, and stay low in the back seat!"
Crash!
The bathroom door finally gave way. The three killers burst in. The leader with the scar raised his silenced pistol and fired three shots through the closet door, sending splinters flying.
It was empty.
"Dammit! The bitch ran!" Scarface looked around, his eyes locking onto the closing mirror. "After her! She doesn't see tomorrow's sun!"
Evelyn clutched her stomach, stumbling through the dark tunnel until she fell onto the cold concrete floor of the garage. Ignoring the pain in her knees, she scrambled up, pulled open the Land Rover's door, and locked it immediately.
Almost the second she locked the doors, Ryan’s security team arrived.
Boom!
The garage’s rolling shutter door was smashed open. Two Hummers roared in, their high beams blinding the three hitmen. Gunfire erupted instantly.
"Madam! Stay down!"
The driver was one of Ryan’s best. He floored it, the armored vehicle ramming through debris as he sped out of the villa.
Rain lashed against the windshield. Even with the wipers on high, visibility was near zero. Evelyn curled up in the back seat, protecting her belly with both hands, her entire body shaking.
"Don't worry, Madam. The boss is coming," the driver said, his eyes glued to the rearview mirror.
Two unmarked black sedans were chasing them like rabid dogs. Octavina had clearly ordered them to kill her at any cost, even if it meant a high-speed wreck.
Pop! Pop!
Cracks like spiderwebs appeared on the rear window. Despite the bulletproof glass, the impacts made the car shudder.
"Hold on!" The guard yanked the steering wheel, sending the SUV into a terrifying drift across the wet pavement to dodge an attempt to pit-maneuver them.
They were on the coastal highway—the only way to the safehouse. It was a dark stretch with no streetlights. Suddenly, a modified pickup truck lunged from a side road, slamming into the passenger side of the Land Rover.
The impact nearly flipped them. Sparks flew as metal ground against metal. Evelyn’s head hit the back of the front seat. Dizziness swirled in her head, and a wave of morning sickness hit her stomach.
As the pickup lunged for a second hit to push them over the cliff...
A blinding light cut through the rain.
Vroom!
The roar of a high-performance engine drowned out the thunder. A silver-gray Aston Martin tore down the wrong side of the road. It didn't slow down. It aimed straight for the hitmen's pickup.
"Crazy bastard!" the killer screamed, instinctively swerving.
It was too late. The sports car slammed into the pickup's rear axle.
Crrrash!
The pickup spun out of control, flipped over the guardrail, and vanished into the abyss with a deafening thud. The Aston Martin came to a halt in the middle of the road, its front end crushed and smoking, blocking the way for any other pursuers.
Evelyn looked back through the cracked window. It was Ryan’s car. He had used himself as a shield.
"No! Ryan!" Evelyn screamed, reaching for the door handle.
"Madam! We can't stop!" The guard’s eyes were red, but he kept his foot on the gas. "The boss gave me orders! As long as you’re safe, he has nothing to fear!"
Evelyn pressed against the back window, tears blurring her vision until the smoking car disappeared into the storm.
Two hours later.
In a hidden safehouse on the outskirts of New York—a Cold War-era bunker Ryan had turned into a fortress.
Evelyn sat on a sofa wrapped in a thick blanket. She held a cup of hot water, but she couldn't stop shivering. It wasn't the cold. It was the fear that the man who always smiled so playfully might never come back.
The security system beeped, and the heavy steel door slowly slid open. Evelyn bolted upright, dropping her cup. She didn't care about the hot water splashing her feet.
Ryan walked in.
He was soaked. His expensive suit was in tatters. A makeshift tourniquet was tied around his left arm, and blood had soaked through half his sleeve. But he was alive.
"Ryan..." Her voice broke as she burst into tears.
When Ryan saw she was unharmed, the murderous look in his eyes softened instantly. He strode over and pulled her into a hug so tight it felt like he wanted to pull her into his very soul.
"Why are you crying?" He smelled of blood and rain, but his presence was a sanctuary. "I told you, as long as I’m here, nobody touches you."
Evelyn didn't dare touch his injury. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his wet chest, sobbing uncontrollably. The terror of the chase and the despair she felt when she thought she was going to die finally poured out of her.
Ryan let her cry into his shirt. He rested his chin on the top of her head, his gaze shifting to the security monitors on the wall. A few suspicious figures were lingering in the woods miles away. Octavina’s people were like leeches.
The warmth in Ryan's eyes faded, replaced by a chilling lethality. He gently pulled back and wiped her tears with his thumb. "Evelyn, look at me."
He cupped her face. "The hiding ends now. If they won't let us live, then we’ll show them who goes to hell first."
Evelyn looked into the fire in his eyes and felt the faint, steady heartbeat of her baby. She was done. Done with being a victim, done with the lies, and done with hiding like a rat.
She took a deep breath, gripped his blood-stained hand, and her gaze turned to steel.
"Okay," she said, her voice hard. "Let's fight back."