Chapter 8 - The Sister's Ghost
I sat shivering in the back of the unmarked police cruiser, realizing I was never going to a police station.
The car was driving toward the abandoned industrial district on the edge of the city.
Suddenly, a massive black SUV slammed perfectly into the side of our cruiser, sending us spinning out of control.
Airbags deployed with a deafening crack, filling the car with white smoke.
Before the corrupt officers could unbuckle their seatbelts, the back door was ripped entirely off its hinges.
Ethan's lead bodyguard dragged me out of the wreckage and threw me into the back of a waiting armored Mercedes.
Ethan was already inside, his knuckles white as he grasped my shaking hands.
"Drive," Ethan ordered, and the heavy car sped away into the night.
"They were going to kill me," I sobbed, collapsing against his chest.
Ethan wrapped his arms around me tightly, finally holding me the way I had secretly dreamed of for months.
"I won't let him take you," Ethan whispered fiercely against my hair.
"We are going to my secure penthouse, the biometric locks can withstand a military breach."
We arrived at the underground garage and took the private elevator directly to the top floor.
The penthouse was massive, dark, and filled with expensive art.
I walked toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, trying to calm my racing heart.
That was when I saw a large oil painting hanging in the hallway.
It was a portrait of a beautiful young woman with bright green eyes and a very distinct, intricate butterfly tattoo on her shoulder.
My glass shattered on the hardwood floor.
I recognized that exact tattoo.
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"Ethan," I gasped, pointing a shaking finger at the canvas.
"Why do you have a painting of the symbol Adrian has tattooed on his ribs?"
