Chapter 3 - THE CHASE IN THE DARK
The address was a remote cabin nestled deep in the Adirondack Mountains, four hours north of the city. I didn't wait for morning. I packed a small bag, paid for the motel in cash, and drove into the pitch-black night.
The rain started halfway through the drive, slicking the winding mountain roads. My mind was racing faster than the windshield wipers. The men I had been forced to share Thanksgiving dinners with weren't just arrogant, spoiled heirs. They were murderers. They had killed the only man who had ever treated me with genuine kindness.
My grief vanished, completely eclipsed by a white-hot, consuming rage.
As I turned onto the unmarked dirt road leading to the coordinates Arthur had provided, I noticed a pair of headlights in my rearview mirror.
They were far back, but they were keeping pace. When I sped up, they sped up.
Julian.
He must have placed a GPS tracker on my car while it was parked at the lawyer's office. He wasn't going to let me walk away with whatever he suspected I had.
I slammed my foot on the gas. The tires spun in the mud, throwing gravel into the dense forest. I took the sharp turns of the mountain pass at terrifying speeds, my knuckles white against the steering wheel. The headlights behind me grew larger, blinding me in the mirrors.
Suddenly, a heavy black SUV rammed into my rear bumper.
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I screamed as my car fishtailed, the tires sliding dangerously close to the edge of the steep ravine. I fought the wheel, regaining control just as the cabin came into view through the trees—a massive, brutalist structure made of stone and steel, entirely hidden from the world.
I hit the brakes, throwing the car into park before it even fully stopped, grabbed my purse, and bolted into the freezing rain.
