The Black Escalade tore through Las Vegas backstreets like a blade through silk, in sharp turns with no signals and headlights turned off until the last possible second. Emilia gripped the door handle so hard that her knuckles blanched white and the new phone Ethan had given her sat cold in her lap although it was silent now, but his last words still echoed in her skull:
"When you get here… we're going to have a very long conversation about why you didn't tell me they already knew my name."
She glanced in the side mirror. The two pursuing SUVs were still trailing; black, tinted and relentless. One hung back at an intersection while the other closed the gap, its engine growling low and predatory.
"Hold on." The driver spoke for the first time, his voice came out flat and professional.
He yanked the wheel hard left into a narrow service alley behind a row of casinos, with tires screeching and trash cans toppling, the pursuing vehicles hesitated at the mouth of the alley before one plunged in after them.
Emilia's stomach lurched. "They're gaining in us!"she screamed.
"Yeah, they are, but they won't for long." The driver said as he floored it. The Escalade surged forward, weaving between delivery trucks and overflowing dumpsters, then turned sharply right into an underground parking garage beneath what looked like an abandoned hotel. The gate arm rose just in time as it slammed down behind them, sealing the entrance.
The driver killed the engine as darkness swallowed the vehicle, silence pressing in, only broken by Emilia's ragged breathing
"Where are we?" she asked, turning to him as she tried to catch her breath.
"Safe for now." He replied as he pulled the hoodie down. He was not the anonymous driver she'd expected, he had sharp features, with salt-and-pepper hair and eyes that had seen too much.
"My name is Marcus, an ex-Special Forces and Mr. Blackwood's personal extraction guy. You're clear." he said briefly, wearing a faint smile.
Emilia exhaled shakily. "They knew Carla's Wi-Fi was compromised and they also knew about Ethan. How?"
Marcus didn't answer. He simply nodded toward the rear door. "The elevator is at the end, it will take you to the top floor. He's there waiting for you."
She opened the door as she stepped out into the cool, concrete-scented air. The garage was empty except for three more black SUVs parked in a neat row, they were identical, armored and their plates removed.
"Go. I'll watch the rear." Marcus said as he adjusted himself behind the wheel, the engine idling
Emilia half-walked and half-ran toward the service elevator, as the doors slid open the second she pressed the button. There were no floor numbers, it just went up and the ride was silent, smooth, unnervingly fast.
When the doors parted, she stepped into a penthouse that felt more like a fortress than a home with its floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the glittering Strip and every window was tinted one-way and looked bulletproof . It had low lighting and minimal furniture. There was a single long table that was covered in screens, maps, and printed files; her files. The same ones she'd tried to send.
Ethan Blackwood stood at the far end of the room, his back to her with sleeves rolled to his elbows, he was staring at a wall of monitors that displayed live feeds: Carla's apartment building, street cams, even a drone angle of the alley they'd just escaped.
He didn't turn when she entered.
"You're late," he said quietly.
Emilia's voice came out steadier than she felt. "Your driver drives like he's trying to kill me before Derek does."
A faint huff that almost sounded like a laugh. "Marcus drives like someone who wants you alive."
She stepped closer. The air between them crackled. "You hacked Carla's network?"
"No, I monitored it. There's a difference." He finally turned. Those dark eyes locked on hers, as usual they were unreadable, assessing, furious in a way that was quiet and terrifying.
"You walked into my booth three days ago dangling proof like candy. You didn't mention the Carsons were already watching me. Or that they'd tagged my name to yours." he drawled.
"I didn't know…" she began.
"Bullshit." He crossed the room in three strides, stopping close enough that she could smell cedar and gun oil on him. "You knew enough to run. You knew enough to come to me. You didn't know they'd already linked us?"
Emilia lifted her chin. "I suspected. After the texts. But I wasn't sure until…"
"Until they used my nickname in a taunt?" His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "Hammer". Only a handful of people still call me that. And none of them are supposed to know that I'm sniffing around Carson business."
She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, it was a mix of anger, fear and something dangerously close to attraction. "Then why help me? If you think I'm playing you…" she started.
"Because if the Carsons are bold enough to throw that word in my face, they're not just after your father's company anymore." He leaned in, voice velvet and venom. "They're coming for me and I don't share." Ethan intercepted, cutting her off.
Silence stretched between them, electric and suffocating.
Emilia's pulse thundered in her ears. "So what now?"
Ethan studied her for a long beat. Then he reached past her and tapped a key on the nearest laptop.
One of the screens flickered to life; it was a grainy feed from inside Derek's mansion. It showed Derek in his study, pacing, his phone to his ear. Amanda sat across from him, her face pale and lips moving silently.
Ethan's next words were soft, deadly calm.
"Now we stop pretending you're just collateral. You're now the match and I'm the gasoline." he said as he smiled faintly, his smile not reaching his eyes.
He hit another key.
Then the feed zoomed in, Derek slammed his fist on the desk, his mouth forming one clear word.
Blackwood.
Then he looked straight into the camera and smiled.
A slow, knowing, murderous smile.
Ethan's hand tightened on the edge of the table until the wood creaked.
"He knows we're watching," Emilia breathed.
Ethan's gaze never left the screen.
"No," he said quietly. "He knows we're coming."
And in that moment, the penthouse lights flickered, just once as if the entire building had held its breath.
Somewhere below, tires screeched again.
They weren't alone anymore.