CHAPTER SIX – NOWHERE IS SAFE
1010 Words
The air inside the car was thick with tension.
Emily sat in the passenger seat of James’s sleek black Audi, arms crossed so tightly her fingers dug into her skin. The city lights blurred past as he wove through traffic, taking turns too sharp, driving too fast.
She didn’t care.
She was still shaking. Still in shock.
Someone had just tried to kill her.
She had thought the threats were just warnings, intimidation tactics meant to scare her away from claiming her father’s empire.
But now, staring at the faint reflection of herself in the car window—wild-eyed, pale, lips slightly parted in disbelief—she realized the truth.
They didn’t want to scare her.
They wanted her dead.
James hadn’t spoken in the last five minutes. His grip on the wheel was tight, his jaw set, the tension in his body radiating through the car like a live wire.
Emily finally found her voice. "Are you going to tell me where we’re going, or should I just assume I’m being kidn*pped?"
James let out a slow exhale, glancing at her briefly. "We need a secure location."
Emily scoffed. "Secure? Newsflash, James—someone shot at us. I don’t think ‘secure’ exists anymore."
James didn’t react. "We’ll be safe where we’re going."
"That’s what you said about your penthouse."
His fingers flexed over the leather steering wheel. "That was before they found us."
She turned to face him fully. "And how exactly did they find us? I thought you were some expert at handling this kind of thing."
James’s expression remained unreadable. "They’re smarter than I anticipated."
Emily clenched her jaw. "You mean they’re smarter than me."
James didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
She looked away, fury burning beneath her skin. She hated this. Hated being helpless. Hated that her life had spiraled so far out of control that she had to depend on a man she barely knew just to survive the night.
Most of all, she hated that James was right.
She wasn’t equipped for this world.
But she would be.
Because she wasn’t going to die.
Not like this.
Not for a father who had never been there for her.
Not for a company she didn’t even want.
Whoever was after her had underestimated her.
Big mistake.
THE SAFE HOUSE
James pulled up to an unmarked building on the outskirts of the city.
It was an old brownstone, well-maintained but deliberately nondescript. A place that blended in. A place meant to disappear.
Emily hesitated as he unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal a dimly lit interior.
She crossed her arms. "You just happen to have a safe house lying around?"
James shot her a look. "I’m a businessman, Emily. Preparation is key."
"Right," she muttered. "Because most businessmen need hideouts in case of assassination attempts."
He ignored her sarcasm, stepping aside so she could enter.
The space was minimalistic but functional—dark hardwood floors, expensive but impersonal furniture, a stocked kitchen, and security monitors blinking quietly in the corner.
James flipped a switch, and recessed lighting illuminated the room in a warm glow.
Emily exhaled. "Okay. We’re here. Now what?"
James set his phone on the counter and shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over a chair. "Now, we figure out who’s trying to kill you."
She let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, is that all?"
James ignored her, rolling up his sleeves. "Start talking."
Emily narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
"You were alone in that bookstore for years, running it with barely any staff, barely any support," James said. "You must’ve overheard things. Conversations. Names. Anything that might tell us why your father’s enemies see you as a threat."
Emily scoffed. "Oh, sure. Because nothing screams ‘corporate espionage’ like selling romance novels and secondhand classics."
James didn’t blink. "You’re his daughter. That makes you dangerous to the people who wanted Hayes out of the picture."
She bristled at the implication. "I didn’t even know him, James."
"Doesn’t matter." He sharply responded
Emily clenched her fists. "Why not?"
James stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"Because whatever secrets your father was keeping?" His gaze locked onto hers. "They didn’t die with him."
A chill slithered down her spine.
She swallowed. "What are you saying?"
James exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I think your father left something behind. And I think whoever’s after you… believes you have it."
Her heart pounded. "That’s insane."
"Is it?" James arched a brow. "Two break-ins in less than twenty-four hours. An armed attack at my penthouse. The threats started the moment you became Hayes’s heir."
Emily sat down heavily on the couch, her hands trembling.
She had thought this was about money.
But if James was right…
It was about power.
And she was caught in the middle.
THE WARNING
A sharp knock echoed through the quiet apartment.
Emily’s stomach dropped.
James immediately grabbed a gun from the side table. He motioned for her to stay put as he approached the door, checking the security monitor.
His entire body went rigid.
Emily’s pulse roared in her ears. "Who is it?"
James didn’t answer.
Instead, he unlocked the door, stepping aside as a man in his fifties strode inside.
Emily’s eyes widened. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, with silver streaks in his dark hair. His sharp suit spoke of wealth, but the tension in his posture screamed danger.
James crossed his arms. "You’re late."
The man ignored him, turning his piercing gaze to Emily.
"You’re Christopher Hayes’s daughter."
It wasn’t a question.
Emily swallowed hard. "Who are you?"
A long pause. Then—
"Oliver Hart."
The name hit her like a blow to the stomach.
Her father’s closest advisor. The man who had been by his side for years.
The man James had suspected of playing both sides.
Emily’s hands immediately clenched into fists by her side.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice unusually cold.
Oliver just studied her for a moment and said nothing. Then he smiled.
"To keep you alive."
- Writer
