Chapter 257
The sleek black sedan raced down the highway, weaving through traffic like a predator hunting its prey.
Amelia’s eyelids fluttered open.
At first, her vision was hazy, blurred at the edges. But as the world sharpened into focus, her breath hitched. Her lips parted in a silent scream, her body frozen like a puppet whose strings had been severed.
“Listen, kid,” a gruff voice growled from the front seat. A man in a baseball cap tilted his head slightly, his face half-hidden in the fading twilight. “If you wanna make it out of this alive, keep your mouth shut.”
His companion, a wiry man with sharp features, scoffed as he checked the rearview mirror. His fingers drummed impatiently against the wheel. “They’re gaining on us. Fast.”
The first man’s jaw tightened. “That shouldn’t be possible. We didn’t leave any traces.”
The lean man smirked, pulling a small handgun from the glove compartment. “Relax. Worst case, we go out swinging. We’re dealing with the Kingsleys—of course they’d come after us.” He glanced at the darkening sky. “But they won’t make a move yet. Too many witnesses. One wrong step, and the girl’s done for.”
In the pursuing car, the air was thick with tension, crackling like electricity before a storm.
Isabella Sinclair leaned forward, her sharp gaze locked onto the black sedan ahead. “Alexander, the roadblock is set, but with this traffic, one wrong move could turn this into a disaster.” The thought of the kidnappers panicking sent a chill down her spine. If they acted recklessly, Amelia could be caught in the crossfire.
Alexander Kingsley didn’t hesitate. “Send two more cars. Flank them from both sides. We force them off the highway—toward the outskirts. Fewer people, fewer risks.” His voice was ice, his eyes burning with barely restrained fury.
Sebastian Harrington, gripping the wheel with white-knuckled intensity, nodded. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Understood.” He knew better than anyone the depths of Alexander’s rage. If anything happened to Amelia, death would be the least of his concerns.
Guilt gnawed at him. If only he’d been more vigilant, Amelia wouldn’t have been taken. Now, he followed Alexander’s orders without question, desperate to make amends.
Isabella could feel the storm brewing inside Alexander. Since Amelia’s abduction, he had been a coiled spring, one wrong move away from snapping. His fingers pressed against his temples—a telltale sign that his old affliction was threatening to resurface.
“Alexander,” she said softly, handing him a small vial of calming essential oil. “Amelia will be safe. But we need to stay in control. If we lose our heads, they win.”
He took the vial, inhaling deeply as the scent enveloped him. The tension in his shoulders eased, if only slightly. “Thank you, Isabella.” His grip on the vial tightened, veins standing out against his skin, as if that small object was the only thing anchoring him to sanity.
“You’re right,” he admitted, closing his eyes briefly. “I need to stay sharp.” But even as he spoke, his presence darkened, the atmosphere in the car thickening like storm clouds gathering.
Isabella didn’t flinch. “Amelia isn’t just your niece to me,” she said, her voice low but fierce. Though her expression was calm, there was something dangerous in her gaze—something predatory.
Sebastian stole a glance at her through the rearview mirror. Isabella was striking, yes, but there was an aura about her that warned others to keep their distance. Like Alexander, she radiated danger. Together, they were an unsettling pair—one a storm waiting to break, the other a blade hidden in silk.
Swallowing his nerves, Sebastian finally spoke. “Ms. Sinclair… how did you know they’d head north? The race was south of the city. Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to disappear into the crowds there?”
Isabella didn’t look away from the road. “They don’t need time to hide. The chaos at the race, the kidnapping—it was all planned. You think that was a coincidence?”
Sebastian’s blood ran cold. The pieces clicked together. “So the sabotage at the race… it was just a distraction. They wanted you and Alexander out of the way long enough to take Amelia.” His mind raced. “But this level of planning… someone had inside help.”
Alexander’s voice was colder than winter. “Some people are just eager to dig their own graves.”
