Chapter 4 - The Escape
Ethan didn't panic. His face transformed instantly into a cold, terrifying mask of lethal absolute authority.
“Marcus, take the secondary stairs and lock down the ground floor,” Ethan ordered calmly, racking the slide of his pistol with a crisp CLACK. “Do not let anyone leave the building alive.”
“Yes, boss!” Marcus barked, pulling his own weapon and vanishing back into the corridor.
Ethan turned back to the bed.
Sophie was hyperventilating, her face pale with terror as she scrambled out of bed, pulling Amy tightly into her arms.
“Ethan, what’s happening? Who are those people?” Sophie cried out, holding her weeping daughter against her chest.
“Sal Moretti,” Ethan answered grimly, stepping toward her, wrapping his long cashmere coat around Sophie’s shoulders. “He’s the head of the rival family controlling the waterfront. He’s been looking for a vulnerability in my organization for three years. He thinks you and Amy are my weakness.”
Ethan reached down, effortlessly scooping Amy up into his left arm while taking Sophie’s hand firmly in his right.
“Stay close to me,” Ethan said, his voice cold and rock-steady. “No one touches you while I’m breathing.”
They rushed out of the suite into the service hallway, dodging the main elevators.
Down the long corridor, four heavily armed men in dark tactical gear rounded the corner, raising assault rifles.
“There he is! Kill him!” one of the men shouted.
Ethan didn't hesitate for a microsecond.
Moving with terrifying, predatory agility, he shoved Sophie behind a concrete pillar, raised his handgun with his right hand while shielding Amy with his left arm, and fired four lightning-fast shots.
POP. POP. POP. POP.
Each suppressed round found its target with mathematical precision. All four attackers collapsed onto the linoleum floor, their weapons clattering uselessly against the wall.
Sophie gasped, covering her mouth in terror, but Ethan was already moving.
He pulled her through a heavy steel emergency exit door leading to the roof helipad.
The cold Seattle rain whipped across the open rooftop as the heavy rotors of a sleek, matte-black Sikorsky helicopter began to roar to life in the darkness.
Ethan’s private pilot waved frantically from the cockpit.
Ethan ushered Sophie up the metal steps into the warm, leather-lined cabin of the helicopter. He placed Amy gently into a plush seat, clicking her seatbelt securely into place, before pulling Sophie in beside her.
“Ethan, where are we going?” Sophie shouted over the deafening roar of the rotors as the helicopter lifted off into the stormy night sky.
Ethan stepped into the cabin, pulling the heavy door shut, locking it tight against the wind. He wiped a streak of rain from his jaw, looking down at her with intense, dark resolve.
“To my estate on Mercer Island,” Ethan replied, his voice cutting clearly through the noise. “It’s a fortress. Moretti won't be able to get within a mile of you there.”
Sophie looked out the rain-streaked window at the glowing, distant lights of Seattle below, then looked back at the terrifying, powerful man sitting across from her.
She had started this week as an invisible, starving maid facing eviction. Now, she was flying through a storm in the private helicopter of the city’s most dangerous man, being hunted by the mafia.
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And yet, as she looked into Ethan’s steady blue eyes, she realized something that frightened her even more than the guns:
She felt completely, entirely safe.
