Then—
“They went to the Grant family estate.”
My pulse spikes.
“Where is it?” I demand. “Send it. Now.”
“I don’t have the exact address yet,” Travis replies. “I’m still pulling it. They moved fast. I barely caught it before they were gone.”
“Did they check in?”
“No. Nothing since they left. Phones are either off or out of range.”
A cold pressure settles in my chest.
“Then find it,” I snap.
“I am,” he says. “But if they’re already there, you’re not going to beat them. You need to get back here so we can track them properly.”
I don’t answer right away.
Because he’s right.
If I drive blind, I lose them completely. If I go back, I get eyes, access, control.
I hang up.
Luke appears beside me like he has always been there, watching.
He smiles.
“Perfect. Now you get to find out what it feels like to be too late again.”
I’m already moving.
The engine roars to life. Tires scream against asphalt as I turn the car around too hard, too fast.
I drive like I can outrun what is coming. Like I can still get there in time. Like I have not already been too late once tonight. I don’t know what I am going to find when I get there.
I only know I can’t be late again.
Chapter 61
Brooke
Colin Grant's family had gathered tonight to plan Elliot’s funeral.
They sat around the long dining table with drinks half finished and folders spread across polished wood. They had also come together to discuss revenge. Elliot’s death demanded it in their world. They intended to decide who would pay and how.
They expected a strategy meeting.
They didn’t expect me.
Grant’s mother, Evelyn, whimpers as I cinch the final knot around her wrists.
The rope cuts deep enough that the skin has already turned pale. She twists instinctively to test it, and the chair groans under her weight.
Thomas, Grant’s father and former police chief, sits at the head of the table. His posture remains stiff. His jaw sets as he watches me move.
