Chapter 169
Chapter 169
Arabella's voice came through the line. "Got it."
She hung up and immediately turned to Cornelius.
"Amara's heading for the docks in Amber District. Hawk has a boat waiting."
Cornelius didn't waste a breath. He picked up his phone and called the police.
"Target vehicle is a white sedan. I'm sending you the plate number now. Currently on the Amber District highway heading toward the docks. Requesting a roadblock."
He hung up and looked at Arabella. "Let's go."
---
On the Amber District highway, Amara's white sedan tore through the night.
Her eyes were fixed on the road ahead, both hands locked on the wheel, knuckles rigid.
She'd been driving for nearly forty minutes. About six more miles to the docks. Once she got there, she'd be safe.
But just as she approached the final exit ramp, she saw a wall of red and blue lights flashing ahead.
Her pupils contracted.
At least four police cruisers were parked across the ramp exit, sealing it completely. Officers stood behind the vehicles, holding up signal boards, ordering her to stop.
Amara's heart hammered—but she didn't slow down.
Her gaze swept the gaps between the cruisers. On the right, between one car and the guardrail, there was a space roughly one car-width wide. If she was fast enough, she might punch through.
She clenched her jaw, yanked the wheel, and floored the accelerator.
The engine roared. The car lunged toward the gap.
"Stop! Stop your vehicle immediately!"
The officers' shouts were swallowed by wind and engine noise.
Her front fender clipped a cruiser's side mirror with a shriek of metal on metal. The car lurched violently, but she held the wheel steady—and she was through.
Before she could exhale, she saw it.
A black Bentley parked broadside across the road ahead, blocking her path.
Cornelius stood beside it, phone in hand, watching her approach with calm, unhurried eyes.
Amara's eyes went wide. She slammed the brake. The tires screamed against asphalt, white smoke erupting from the rubber.
The car shuddered to a stop less than sixteen feet from Cornelius, its hood nearly kissing the Bentley's flank.
Amara sat gasping, hands welded to the steering wheel, cold sweat tracing lines down her face.
She lifted her head and looked through the windshield. Cornelius was walking toward her.
His pace was measured, unhurried—as though every detail of this moment had been anticipated.
Behind him, the pursuing cruisers had caught up, boxing her in on every side.
Amara sank back against the seat and closed her eyes.
Nowhere left to run.
---
At the same time, Hawk sat in the living room of his Amber District villa. The ashtray before him overflowed with crushed cigarette butts.
He held his phone. The screen displayed a message that had just come in.
Amara had been intercepted at the tollbooth. She was in police custody.
He stared at the message for a long time. Then he tossed the phone onto the couch, leaned back, and let out a slow, heavy breath.
Amara was caught. That meant his entire domestic money pipeline was severed.
The funds that hadn't been transferred yet were now frozen in the accounts. He couldn't touch a cent.
He opened his eyes. His gaze fell on a sealed document envelope sitting on the coffee table.
Inside was his last card to play.
Years ago, he'd secretly photographed fragments of architectural blueprints from his father's collection. They weren't complete drawings, but the core structural data on them was enough to make the right buyer salivate.
He'd never wanted it to come to this. He'd been saving those fragments as a lifeline. But now he had no choice.
He picked up his phone and dialed a number. It rang several times before connecting.
A man's voice on the other end: "Mr. Zeller."
"Get a few guys. Grab Arabella and bring her to me."
Hawk's voice was low, each word ground between his teeth.
"She works at the Douglas Group. Hit her on her way home. I want her alive."
The voice acknowledged and hung up.
Hawk set the phone down and picked up the document envelope, weighing it in his hand. His eyes were cold.
Arabella. Your mentor owed me a debt. You're going to pay it.
---
But the men he sent went dark. By nightfall, not a single update.
Hawk's patience frayed. He dialed the number himself. It rang for a long time before someone answered.
"Where is she?" he demanded.
The voice on the other end was tight with frustration.
"Mr. Zeller, no luck. She's got protection—at least four people on her at all times. We couldn't get close."
"And she didn't go back to her apartment after work. Cornelius's car picked her up directly. We tailed them for a while, but they lost us."
Hawk's fingers tightened around the phone. He fought the urge to hurl it across the room. After a few seconds of silence, he said flatly, "Pull back."
He hung up and slammed the phone onto the coffee table with a dull thud.
He took several deep breaths, forcing himself to think clearly. Then he picked up the phone again, scrolled to Cornelius's number, and typed a message.
[Mr. Douglas, I'd like to propose a deal. Arrange my passage out of the country within twenty-four hours. Otherwise, I sell the blueprint fragments to an overseas buyer. You know what those drawings are worth—people would kill for them.]
He sent it and leaned back, staring at the ceiling, waiting.
About ten minutes later, the phone buzzed.
He picked it up. Cornelius had replied with a single word: [Where.]
A cold smirk tugged at the corner of Hawk's mouth. He typed back:
[Amber District abandoned docks. Tomorrow, 3 PM. Come alone. Bring a travel pass. If I see police, the fragments go out immediately.]
Cornelius read the message, set his phone down, and turned to Arabella on the couch.
"He wants to meet tomorrow at three. The abandoned docks in Amber District. Just me. Alone."
Arabella's brow furrowed. "He'll have backup. There's no way he's going alone."
"I know."
Cornelius walked to the window and stared into the heavy darkness outside.
"He'll have at least two people with him. And the docks—open sightlines, easy to hide people, easy to escape. He picked that location to give himself a way out."
Arabella stood and moved to his side, her voice firm. "I'm going with you tomorrow."
Cornelius turned to look at her. His tone left no room for argument. "No."