Chapter 3 - The Getaway Car
The service corridor smelled of bleach and roasted garlic.
Emily kicked off her high heels, leaving them abandoned on the industrial linoleum.
Julian didn't question it. He simply kept a steady pace, scanning the hallway ahead.
“They’re going to lock down the front exits,” Julian said quietly. “Good thing we aren’t using them.”
They pushed through the heavy metal fire door at the back of the kitchens.
The humid Dallas night air hit Emily like a wet towel.
A sleek black SUV was idling in the loading dock, its lights off.
Julian opened the back door. “Get in. Keep your head down.”
Emily climbed inside, sinking into the leather seats. She pulled the torn edges of her dress together, suddenly shivering despite the heat.
Julian got into the driver’s seat and slammed on the gas.
The SUV peeled out of the loading dock just as two of Maddox’s security guards burst through the fire doors, shouting.
They were too late.
The SUV merged onto the highway, disappearing into the stream of taillights.
For ten minutes, neither of them spoke.
Emily stared out the window, watching the city blur past.
Her hands were shaking now. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind a cold, hollow exhaustion.
“You okay?” Julian asked, his eyes catching hers in the rearview mirror.
“I think so,” Emily whispered.
She placed her hand on her stomach. Her baby was quiet now. “He’s okay. I’m okay.”
“You did exactly what we planned,” Julian said. His tone was approving, professional. “Actually, you did better. The live feed was a nice touch. It hit fifty thousand viewers right before I cut the signal.”
Emily closed her eyes. Fifty thousand people.
By tomorrow morning, it would be five million.
Her phone began to vibrate violently in her clutch.
It was a continuous, angry buzzing.
She pulled it out and looked at the screen.
Thirty-two missed calls from Grant.
Fourteen from Richard.
Eighty-seven text messages from numbers she didn't even recognize.
Notifications from Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok were flooding the screen so fast it was illegible.
The hashtag #MaddoxGala was already trending at number one in the United States.
She powered the phone off.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Not to the house,” Julian said. “Grant will have people there waiting. I booked a safe house under a shell company three towns over. It’s quiet. Stocked fridge. No cameras.”
“Thank you, Julian.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he warned. “The Maddox family won't take this lying down. You just blew up a hundred-million-dollar empire and made them the laughingstock of the elite. Tomorrow, the smear campaign starts.”
Emily looked down at her torn dress.
The blue ribbon was still there, frayed but unbroken.
“Let them try,” she said.
She laid her head back against the seat and let the darkness of the highway swallow them.
May you like
She had burned her old life to the ground.
Now, she just had to survive the ashes.
