Chapter 3 - The Interception
I hurried down the subway stairs, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. I switched trains twice, doubled back through a crowded department store, and took every precaution I had learned from a decade of living on the fringes of Ethan’s world. But by the time I emerged near my apartment building, a heavy hand firmly grasped my elbow, guiding me swiftly into the darkened rear cabin of an idling Lincoln Navigator.
I gasped, raising my purse to swing, but a familiar, gravelly voice stopped me instantly.
"Put the bag down, Emma. You're safe."
I blinked against the dim interior light and found Enzo, Ethan’s fiercely loyal head of security, sitting across from me with a grim, hard set to his jaw. In the front seat, another enforcer kept our vehicle moving smoothly away from the curb.
"Enzo? What is the meaning of this?!" I demanded, pulling my arm away and clutching my purse protectively against my chest. "You have no right to intercept me! Ethan and I are divorced! I am a private citizen!"
"Boss didn't order this pickup, Miss Hayes," Enzo replied calmly, though his dark eyes darted nervously toward the rearview mirror. "I did. My intelligence unit flagged three different surveillance teams from Marcus’s faction staking out your apartment and your doctor’s office today. The second your divorce papers were filed, Marcus figured you were vulnerable. He thinks you know the safehouse locations from your years with Ethan. And worse... he’s starting to ask questions about why you visited an OB-GYN clinic this morning."
My breath hitched in my throat. The ultrasound picture in my purse suddenly felt like a ticking time bomb. "They... they know about the clinic?"
Enzo paused, his sharp gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that suggested he already knew far more than he was letting on. "Marcus doesn't know for sure yet. But he’s planning to snatch you tonight to interrogate you. And Boss... well, Boss thinks you packed your bags and flew to Europe like you threatened during the settlement negotiations."
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"Take me home," I said firmly, masking my terror with cold anger. "I can take care of myself."
"You can't," Enzo said flatly. "And whether you like it or not, the second we pull up to the safehouse, Boss is going to find out you never left New York."
