Chapter 2 - The Stolen Truth
Julian did not even think before he broke into a dead sprint.
Years of professional athletic training kicked in as his expensive leather shoes tore into the pavement.
He screamed Elena's name, but the heavy sliding door of the black van slammed shut.
The tires screeched against the asphalt, leaving a thick cloud of burning rubber smoke behind.
Julian reached the street just as the van sped away toward the crowded city highway.
He turned wildly toward his damaged BMW and ordered his driver to get out.
The terrified driver scrambled out of the front seat without a single word of protest.
Julian jumped behind the wheel, ignoring the dented door, and slammed his foot on the gas pedal.
The massive engine roared as the luxury SUV launched off the curb in fierce pursuit.
He navigated the heavy afternoon traffic with reckless, dangerous precision.
He kept his eyes locked on the black van weaving aggressively through the lanes ahead.
His phone began to vibrate violently in the cup holder.
He glanced down and saw the caller ID flashing the name of his ruthless manager, Victor.
Julian ignored the call, his grip tightening around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned entirely white.
He pushed the accelerator to the floor, closing the distance between him and the kidnappers.
The back window of the van suddenly rolled down.
A masked man leaned out, holding a high-powered assault rifle.
Julian swerved sharply to the left just as a barrage of bullets shattered his windshield.
Glass sprayed across the plush leather interior of the BMW, cutting his cheek deeply.
He wiped the blood from his face, refusing to back down from the deadly chase.
He realized he could not simply follow them without getting killed.
Julian saw a narrow construction alley running parallel to the main highway.
He jerked the steering wheel hard, sending the expensive SUV crashing through a temporary wooden barricade.
He drove blindly through the dust and debris of the construction site to cut them off.
He launched the car off a dirt ramp, violently crashing back onto the highway directly in front of the van.
The van driver panicked and slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting the heavy BMW.
The black van lost control, spinning wildly before smashing into a concrete highway divider.
Julian kicked his jammed door open and stepped out into the smoke, his fists clenched tight.
He walked toward the wrecked van, ignoring the blaring horns of the stopped traffic around them.
He ripped the damaged sliding door entirely off its hinges with a surge of adrenaline.
He froze when he saw the face of the unconscious driver bleeding on the steering wheel.
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It was not a random street thug or a hired cartel mercenary.
The man bleeding in the driver's seat was Julian's own head of personal security.
