Chapter 5 - The Ashford Retaliation
Peace is a luxury that men like Marcus Ashford do not allow their enemies to enjoy.
Two weeks had passed since the wedding disaster. Mave and I had fallen into a quiet, domestic rhythm. We cooked together. We read to Posie. We walked in the snowy woods. For the first time in my life, I wasn't constantly checking my phone for stock updates or emails.
But the real world was about to break down our door.
It happened on a Thursday morning. I was in the kitchen, making pancakes for Posie, when Wesley rushed in. His usually calm demeanor was gone. His jaw was clenched tight.
"Boss. We have a problem."
I put the spatula down. "What is it?"
"A fleet of black SUVs just breached the main gate. They overpowered the outer guards. They're coming up the driveway."
My blood ran cold. "Is it my mother?"
"No," Wesley said grimly, pulling his sidearm from his shoulder holster. "It's Marcus Ashford. And he brought the police."
Mave rushed into the kitchen, clutching Posie to her chest. She had seen the cameras on the security monitors. Panic had completely taken over her face. "Garrett! What's happening?"
"Get upstairs," I ordered softly but firmly. "Lock the bedroom door. Do not come out until I tell you."
Mave didn't argue. She sprinted up the stairs.
I walked to the front door, throwing it open just as five black SUVs slammed on their brakes in the snow-covered driveway. Car doors flew open. A dozen private security contractors stepped out, followed by two uniformed local police officers.
And then, stepping out of the lead vehicle, was Marcus Ashford.
He was a massive man, built like a brick wall, wearing a custom overcoat and chewing on an unlit cigar. Beside him stood Coraline, looking smug and triumphant.
"Garrett!" Marcus boomed, walking toward the porch. "Nice little cabin you've got here. Hard to find. But money buys good hunting dogs."
"You have exactly ten seconds to get off my property, Marcus, before my men open fire," I said coldly. Wesley and four of my guards racked their shotguns in unison behind me.
The police officers flinched, resting their hands on their holsters.
"Now, now, let's not be dramatic," Marcus chuckled. He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to one of the police officers, who walked up the steps and reluctantly handed it to me.
I unfolded it.
It was a court order.
"Child Protective Services," Marcus smiled, his teeth yellowed from tobacco. "Signed by a federal judge this morning. We received an anonymous tip—from your dear mother, actually—that a kidnapped child is being held at this location by an unstable man and an unfit, unemployed mother with a history of financial fraud."
I crushed the paper in my fist. "You're trying to take my daughter?"
"I'm trying to teach you a lesson about respect, boy," Marcus snarled, his jovial mask dropping. "You humiliated my daughter. You tanked my stock portfolio. You think you can just walk away and play house? I'm going to take that little bastard child, throw her in the foster system, and put your whore in jail for extortion."
Coraline smiled sweetly from the snow. "You should have just married me, Garrett."
Red-hot, blinding fury surged through my veins. Every civilized instinct I had evaporated. I wanted to tear Marcus Ashford apart with my bare hands.
"Officer," I said, my voice dangerously calm, addressing the trembling local cop. "This is a fabricated warrant based on perjury. If you step foot inside my house, you will be trespassing on federal property owned by my private defense contractor subsidiary. I will have you stripped of your badge, sued into poverty, and jailed by Monday."
The officer froze. He looked back at Marcus, then at the heavily armed men behind me. He realized he was caught in a war between billionaires, and he was the sacrificial pawn.
"Mr. Ashford," the officer stammered. "We... we can't breach without a social worker present. The warrant requires a CPS agent on site."
Marcus cursed, spitting his cigar into the snow. "Fine. But you can't hide in the woods forever, Garrett! I have the judge in my pocket! I have your mother's sworn testimony! I'll be back tomorrow with an army of lawyers!"
"Bring them," I whispered, leaning over the porch railing. "Because by tomorrow, Marcus, you won't have a penny left to pay them."
Marcus glared at me, turned on his heel, and got back into his SUV. Coraline gave me one last hateful look before following her father.
As the convoy sped away, leaving muddy tracks in the pristine snow, I turned to Wesley.
"Call him," I said.
May you like
Wesley nodded, knowing exactly who I meant. "The Ghost?"
"Yes. Tell him it's time to unleash the file. Burn the Ashfords to the ground."
