Chapter 4 - The Ransom of Blood
Ethan did not hesitate for a single second as the sound of heavy boots echoed from the elevator shaft above us.
He kicked open the small access panel near the floor of the cabin and pulled out a heavy emergency crowbar.
He jammed the metal bar between the elevator doors and used his entire body weight to pry them apart just enough for us to squeeze through.
We slipped out onto the darkened maintenance floor, narrowly avoiding the tactical laser sights sweeping the elevator cabin.
We ran blindly through the narrow, dusty corridors, my injured leg screaming in protest with every single frantic step.
Ethan guided us toward the old service stairwell that his father's corrupt security team had conveniently forgotten about.
We descended forty flights of stairs in agonizing silence, the blare of police sirens echoing loudly from the street level.
We finally burst out of a hidden loading dock door, disappearing into the dense, freezing rain of the Chicago night.
Ethan led me to a heavily armored black SUV parked discreetly in a nearby alleyway.
He drove recklessly through the slick city streets, keeping a close eye on the rearview mirror to ensure we were not being followed.
I asked him to drive me straight to my tiny, run-down apartment on the south side so I could grab my hidden emergency cash.
When we arrived at my building, the front door of my apartment was completely shattered and hanging off its hinges.
I rushed inside, sobbing as I saw my meager belongings completely destroyed and scattered across the cheap linoleum floor.
The place had been entirely ransacked by professionals looking for something incredibly specific.
Ethan carefully picked up a bloody, torn piece of fabric resting deliberately on the center of my overturned kitchen table.
My heart completely stopped when I recognized the material as the exact same fabric from the apron Luis always wore at work.
Beneath the bloody apron was a crisp, white envelope bearing the Ashford family crest.
I ripped it open with trembling hands, my eyes rapidly scanning the elegant, terrifying handwriting inside.
The note stated that Luis was currently being held hostage in exchange for my immediate surrender.
May you like
The message ended with a sinister promise that the teenage boy would lose a finger for every hour I kept the police waiting.
Just as I dropped the note in absolute despair, the burner phone on the kitchen counter began to ring violently.
