No way out

The SUV sped through the darkened streets, but the vehicles chasing them weren't slowing down. The city lights blurred past as the tires screeched against the pavement.

Elena gripped the seat in front of her, her breath uneven. "We're not going to outrun them, are we?"

Ethan's jaw tightened. "Not unless we get creative."

Noah was already dialing a number. "We need an exit," he said sharply. A brief pause. "Five minutes? That's too damn long." He cursed and ended the call, his eyes flashing with cold fury.

Another gunshot cracked through the air. The back windshield shattered, glass raining into the car. Elena let out a sharp gasp, pressing herself against the seat.

Noah turned to the driver. "Take the bridge."

The driver hesitated. "That's a dead end."

"Exactly," Noah said.

Elena's heart pounded. "A dead end? That doesn't sound like a plan!"

Noah didn't respond. Instead, he pulled out another magazine, reloading his gun.

Ethan leaned in. "Trust me, he always has a way out."

The SUV skidded onto the bridge, tires screeching as it made the sharp turn. Behind them, the black convoy followed, closing in fast.

Noah looked at the driver. "When I say jump, you jump."

Elena's eyes widened. "Jump?"

Noah's gaze locked onto hers. "You want to live, sweetheart?"

Her throat went dry, but she nodded.

"Then do exactly what I say."

The car swerved violently as another round of bullets struck the side. The bridge was barely lit, the dark waters below reflecting the dim city lights.

Noah's voice was calm, commanding. "Now!"

The driver slammed the brakes. Noah grabbed Elena's wrist, pulling her toward the door. Before she could protest, she was airborne—free-falling into the cold, merciless river below.

The icy water swallowed her whole.

The last thing she heard was the deafening explosion above.

---

The icy river closed over Elena like a coffin of shadows. For a heartbeat, everything was still—silent—until the cold stabbed through her like a thousand knives. Her lungs screamed for air as she kicked upward, disoriented, the surface a blur above her.

Then, strong arms wrapped around her waist.

Noah.

He pulled her up with practiced strength, his face grim and focused beneath the flickering surface. Moments later, they broke through the water, gasping for breath.

Elena coughed violently, her chest heaving as they floated. "We—what just happened?"

Noah didn't waste time. "We bought ourselves two minutes. Maybe three." He scanned the dark surroundings. The bridge was far above them now, smoke curling against the night sky. Sirens echoed faintly in the distance.

Ethan emerged from the water a few meters away, shaking his head to clear it. "I swear, next time you pull that stunt, give me more than a half-second warning."

Noah smirked, even as his eyes stayed alert. "You made it, didn't you?"

Elena shivered, her clothes weighing her down. "Where do we go now?"

Noah pointed to a narrow path along the embankment. "There. There's a safe house about half a mile through the tunnels."

"Tunnels?" Elena echoed, dread settling in.

"Yeah," Ethan said, already swimming toward the edge. "And they're not exactly scenic."

—

Fifteen minutes later, dripping and freezing, they stepped into a dimly lit underground corridor that reeked of damp stone and rusted metal. The tunnel walls felt like they were closing in, and Elena's teeth chattered with each step.

"Who were they?" she finally asked, her voice hoarse. "The people chasing us?"

Noah glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "People paid by your father's enemies. And some… maybe by him."

She stopped in her tracks. "So we're not even sure who's trying to kill us?"

Noah's silence was answer enough.

Ethan added quietly, "This is bigger than just a manhunt, Elena. This is a war. And you're the key."

Her voice broke. "Why me?"

Noah turned, his face inches from hers. His eyes burned with something between anger and something… softer. "Because you're the only person who can destroy him—or save him."

Before she could ask more, a sound echoed through the tunnel.

Footsteps.

Close.

Noah raised his gun. Ethan reached for his knife. Elena's heart stopped.

They weren't alone.

---

The footsteps echoed louder—measured, deliberate, and getting closer with every second. Elena pressed herself against the cold, damp tunnel wall, her heart hammering in her chest. Noah's body tensed beside her, his gun raised, while Ethan crouched slightly ahead, eyes narrowed, blade ready.

Three shadows emerged from the far end of the tunnel.

Elena held her breath.

And then—

"Wait!" Ethan hissed. He tilted his head, listening carefully. "That's not pursuit. That's a signal."

Noah flicked his eyes toward him. "You sure?"

Ethan gave a single nod, then stepped forward, making a low clicking sound with his tongue. The sound was met with a double knock—three quick taps against the tunnel wall.

Elena's eyes widened. "What is that?"

"A code," Noah murmured. "For allies."

From the shadows emerged a figure in black, soaked but calm, face partially hidden under a hood. "Took you long enough," she said, pulling the hood back.

A woman.

Sharp eyes. Confident stance. And familiarity in her gaze when she looked at Noah.

"Elena, meet Camille," Noah said flatly. "Our inside contact."

Camille's eyes lingered on Elena a second too long before she gave a tight nod. "So, she's the reason all hell broke loose."

Elena stepped forward, trying to hold her ground. "I can hear you, you know."

Camille gave a wry smile. "Good. You'll need that fire where we're going."

She turned without waiting and led them deeper into the tunnel. The air grew colder, damper, more oppressive. Elena's nerves screamed in all directions, and questions spun in her head like a storm.

Finally, the narrow path opened into an old underground chamber—stone walls, flickering lights, surveillance screens, and maps pinned up. A temporary base.

"Welcome to the real game," Camille said.

Noah walked over to the table. "What's the status?"

Camille moved to one of the monitors. "Your father's men are regrouping. But something's changed. He's not just watching anymore—he's moving pieces."

Ethan joined her. "He's pushing for contact, isn't he?"

Camille hesitated, then looked at Elena. "He sent a message. For her."

Elena froze. "What kind of message?"

Camille turned the screen. A still image blinked into view—grainy, but clear enough.

Elena gasped.

It was her mother.

Alive. Bound. Terrified.

And a note at the bottom:

"Come alone, Elena. Or she dies."

The blood drained from Elena's face. Noah stepped forward immediately, his voice deadly. "It's a trap."

Elena whispered, "I don't care."

"You should," Ethan snapped. "Because walking into this means handing yourself to a man who's been planning your entire life like a chessboard."

She shook her head, lips trembling. "I have to go. She's alive. I can't just sit here."

Noah's jaw clenched. "Then we make a new plan. One where you don't die walking into his hands."

Camille's fingers danced over the keyboard. "You've got twelve hours. After that, we lose the signal."

Elena's world spun again—rage, fear, hope, confusion—everything crashing into her at once. But only one thing was clear.

This time, the next move was hers.

-----

To be continued...