I had barely recovered from a brutal delivery when my husband looked at our newborn daughter, froze, and asked the one question I never expected to hear.

We moved violently through the luxurious, highly opulent hallways of the superyacht, leaving an absolute trail of complete destruction in our wake.

The stark contrast between the beautiful, priceless art hanging on the walls and the brutal, bloody violence occurring on the floors was incredibly jarring.

Ethan cleared every single room with terrifying, lethal efficiency, his face an emotionless mask of pure, unadulterated vengeance.

We finally reached a set of massive, heavily reinforced titanium doors heavily marked with biohazard symbols.

This was the highly illegal, mobile medical facility.

Ethan aggressively planted a block of highly concentrated plastic explosives directly on the electronic locking mechanism.

We ducked behind a heavy marble pillar as the deafening, violent explosion completely blew the heavy doors off their hinges.

We charged wildly into the pristine, brightly lit medical bay, our heavy weapons raised and ready to fire.

But the sight that greeted us made my racing heart completely stop in my chest.

Clara was standing calmly in the center of the room, pressing a highly lethal, customized silver pistol directly against my crying daughter's tiny temple.

Sitting comfortably in a high-tech, automated medical wheelchair was a frail, horrifyingly pale older man connected to a dozen different glowing IV machines.

His face was deeply scarred and ravaged by aggressive disease, but his piercing blue eyes were absolutely identical to Ethan's.

Alistair Vance looked at his son with a cold, incredibly wicked smile that sent paralyzing shivers down my entire spine.

He slowly applauded our violent arrival with weak, trembling hands, highly amused by the massive trail of dead bodies we had left behind us.

He coldly commanded us to drop our heavy weapons immediately, or Clara would pull the trigger without a single second of hesitation.

Ethan stared in absolute, heartbroken agony at his terrified, weeping daughter.

With a massive, gut-wrenching sigh of complete defeat, Ethan slowly lowered his heavy assault rifle and dropped it loudly onto the sterile white floor.