Chapter 2: The Helicopters
Chapter 2: The Helicopters
The sound grew louder.
Not one helicopter.
Three.
Their searchlights swept across the gardens of Blackthorn Manor, turning the marble fountains into rivers of white light.
Nathan frowned.
"What the hell..."
The estate's front gates suddenly slid open.
A convoy of black SUVs rolled through the entrance without slowing.
One after another.
Eight vehicles.
Every one identical.
Celeste stood.
"Nathan..."
Her confidence was gone.
Men in dark suits stepped from the SUVs with military precision.
No company logos.
No police markings.
Just disciplined silence.
Nathan laughed nervously.
"So your father hired private security."
He shrugged.
"Cute."
The front doors opened before anyone knocked.
An older man entered.
Silver hair.
Tailored navy overcoat.
Walking cane carved from ebony.
He didn't hurry.
He never had to.
Every guard stepped aside as he passed.
Nathan stared.
"...Who are you?"
The man ignored him.
His eyes searched the room until they found me.
His expression softened.
"My little girl."
I managed a faint smile.
"I'm sorry you had to see this."
He knelt beside me.
Carefully lifted my chin.
His eyes fell upon the bloody welts across my back.
The warmth disappeared from his face.
When he stood again...
He looked twenty years younger.
And infinitely more dangerous.
"Nathan Ashford."
He spoke the name as if reading a sentence.
"My name is Jonathan Sinclair."
Nathan's expression didn't change.
It should have.
Because Jonathan Sinclair wasn't a retired accountant.
He was the founder of Sinclair International Holdings.
The investment group that quietly financed half of Ashford Global Logistics.
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Nathan simply didn't know it.
Until now.
