Chapter 6 - The Hostage
The realization that I had left my daughters completely defenseless tore my soul in half.
Patricia had orchestrated the street ambush purely to keep me away from the casino.
I ordered my surviving men to hold the line while I stole a nearby motorcycle and sped back toward the city center.
I ignored every traffic law, weaving recklessly through cars and running multiple barricades.
I arrived at the casino and sprinted down the hidden concrete stairwell leading to the bunker.
The massive steel vault door had been melted completely open with a thermal cutting torch.
I stepped inside the safe room, my heart hammering desperately against my ribs.
The bunker was completely empty.
There was no blood, no bodies, and no sign of Clara or my precious little girls.
A single white envelope was resting perfectly on the center of the metal table.
I ripped it open with shaking hands and found a handwritten note from Patricia.
"I told you I wanted the girls, Ethan," the elegant handwriting read.
"Bring the master ledger of your criminal empire to the shipyard, or they die slowly."
I screamed in absolute agony, hurling the table across the room.
I had built an empire of terror, yet I was entirely powerless to protect my own blood.
I retrieved the master ledger from a hidden floor safe and drove to the abandoned shipyard alone.
The salty air stung my eyes as I walked into the massive, empty warehouse.
Patricia was standing on a rusted catwalk high above the floor, surrounded by heavily armed cartel guards.
Marcus was tied to a chair beside her, badly beaten but still breathing.
"Where are my daughters, Patricia?" I roared, holding up the leather-bound ledger.
Patricia laughed, a sharp, cruel sound that echoed through the dark warehouse.
May you like
"You are such a fool, Ethan," Patricia sneered, leaning over the metal railing.
"I never had your brats, the maid managed to escape with them through the ventilation shafts before my men breached the room."
