Chapter 613:

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At that exact moment, the squeal of tires filled the air. Several black SUVs screeched to a halt, boxing in the wrecked vehicle.

Doors flew open and seven or eight large men in black suits and earpieces swarmed out, a small, discreet Thornton family crest embroidered on their jackets.

They were Clarence’s real men, led by Sid Sutton.

Sid saw the crash, saw Amelia inside, and his face went pale. He spoke urgently into his comms. “Sir! We’ve found Miss Frye! There’s been a major accident. She’s in the vehicle, condition critical!”

The bodyguards moved with professional speed, using pry bars to wrench open the jammed door.

The tattooed kidnapper tried to fight back, pulling his gun, but two guards overwhelmed him instantly and slammed him face-down onto the wet pavement.

The door was ripped open. Strong, careful hands reached in for Amelia.

She saw Sid Sutton’s familiar, grim face, the man she had seen at Clarence’s side in the hospital, and she knew with absolute certainty that she was safe.

The tension that had kept her going snapped. The pain, the blood loss, the terror all came crashing down at once. Her vision tunneled to black, and she fell into unconsciousness.

The wail of an ambulance siren grew closer.

𝘔𝗼rе 𝘯𝘰𝘷e𝗹𝘀 𝗼𝘯 𝘨𝖺𝗹𝘯ov𝘦l𝘴.𝖼𝘰𝗺

In his New York office, Clarence Thornton took the call. He shot up from his chair, his famously calm face contorted with a rare expression of shock and fury. “What did you say? A car crash? She’s in labor?”

He barked orders into the phone. “Lock down the hospital! Full emergency protocol! Get the best OB and neonatal teams on standby! I want her and the child safe, whatever it takes!”

Then he added, his voice dropping, “And do not tell Garrett about this. Not yet.” He knew what the news would do to his brother. It would break him.

Clarence ended the call and strode to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the New York skyline, his eyes colder than the night.

He dialed Casey’s number. “Casey. Where is Brice Langley?”

He was going to make the man who planned this pay. In blood.

Garrett pulled his gaze away from Brice, the icy intent in his eyes vanishing as he picked up a glass of champagne. He was the picture of social grace, as if the silent, murderous exchange had never taken place.

He murmured to Casey, “Stay on him. I want to know who he meets and what he says.”

Casey nodded and melted into the crowd like a shadow to carry out his orders.

Garrett moved through the throngs of guests, exchanging nods with business acquaintances. Beneath the perfect social mask, his mind was racing, searching for the weak point in the trap Brice had so carefully laid.

This party wasn’t a celebration. It was a stage.

A young man with a hesitant smile approached him, a drink in his hand. “Mr. Thornton. Good evening. I’m Ronan Langley.”

Garrett studied him. The young man resembled Brice, but his aura was completely different, softer and less threatening.

“Ronan,” Garrett acknowledged with a nod. “A successful party. Congratulations.”

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