Chapter 4 - The Ghost of the Terminal
Sebastian’s knuckles turned bone-white around the casing of the phone.
“Who is this?” Sebastian demanded, his voice dropping into a register so cold it felt like liquid nitrogen. “Give me a name before I find you and tear your syndicate apart piece by piece.”
“You already know the name, Sebastian,” the voice laughed softly on the other end. “Or did you forget the man whose throat you cut to build your precious empire? Ask Mara about the cargo manifest from 2021. Ask her who really owned the ships.”
The line went dead with a sharp click.
Sebastian stared at the dead screen for three seconds before slowly lowering his hand. He looked up at me, the terrifying coldness in his eyes giving way to a raw, haunted realization.
“Do you know him?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself to stop the shivering, the blood-stained sheet forgotten on the floor.
“A ghost,” Sebastian muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. “A man I buried three years ago in a hostile takeover that went sideways. If he’s back, it means our entire financial infrastructure has been compromised from the top down.”
He walked over to the bed, grabbed a heavy wool coat from the chest at the foot of the mattress, and wrapped it securely around my shoulders. His hands lingered on my arms, warmer this time, but urgent.
“You can’t stay here, Valerie,” he said, his tone absolute. “The moment those tactical teams failed, they’ll call in heavy artillery or put a lockdown on the building. We need to move.”
“Where?” I asked, looking around the devastated penthouse. “Every exit is a target.”
“The service tunnels beneath the subterranean parking garage,” Sebastian said, pulling a spare Glock from the nightstand drawer and sliding it into my trembling hands. “Hold this. Keep your finger off the trigger unless someone besides me comes through the door.”
I stared at the heavy black weapon in my hands, feeling the cold steel ground me in a way my own panic never could. “I don't know how to shoot this.”
“You won't have to,” Sebastian promised, his gaze locking onto mine with fierce, unyielding intensity. “Because I won't let anyone get close enough to make you try.”
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He grabbed a secure duffel bag from the closet—packed with cash, passports, and encrypted burner hardware—and pulled me toward the private service elevator in the back of the suite.
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