Chapter 4 - The Flight to Safe Harbor
The heavy armored Mercedes burst through the estate’s side gates, tearing down the rain-slicked highway toward the Michigan border at a hundred miles an hour.
Inside the rear cabin, the world was silent, protected by three inches of bulletproof glass and reinforced steel plating.
Grace and June lay curled against Emma’s lap, exhausted beyond measure. For the first time in nearly two months, the girls were not crying, trembling, or screaming about buzzing monsters. The quiet hum of the high-powered V8 engine was the only sound in the dark vehicle.
Emma stroked their soft hair, her heart still pounding like a tripfire in her chest. She looked down at her hands—they were covered in dust, polyfill stuffing, and faint traces of blood from the struggle in the nursery.
Up in the driver’s seat, Marcus kept his eyes glued to the rear-view mirror, his radio crackling with encrypted static.
“Anything from the house, Marcus?” Emma asked, leaning forward between the front seats.
Marcus swallowed hard, his hands tight on the leather steering wheel. “The estate’s comms are completely dark, Emma. Declan activated the master containment protocol. The whole estate is locked down behind steel blast shutters. No signals in, no signals out.”
“Does that mean he’s trapped inside with them?”
“It means Julian and Meredith are trapped inside with him,” Marcus corrected grimly. “You don't understand who Declan Shaw is, Emma. Before his wife died, before he tried to go legitimate for the twins, Declan was known as the Reaper of the Great Lakes. Julian brought twenty mercenaries into that house tonight. He’s going to need a hundred more just to survive the night.”
Emma looked out the window at the passing streetlights reflecting off the rain. She had only been working for the Shaw family for three months. She had taken the job as a night maid to pay off her late father’s medical debts, expecting to clean empty mansions for wealthy snobs.
She had never imagined she would fall in love with two traumatized little girls—or find herself deeply bound to a terrifying crime boss whose eyes held a depth of sorrow that mirrored her own.
“Where are we going?” Emma asked, pulling out the small black leather book Declan had given her.
“Safe Harbor,” Marcus replied. “It’s an old fishing town on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan. Declan bought a three-hundred-acre estate hidden deep in the pine forests ten years ago. It’s fortified like a military bunker, but it looks like a peaceful log cabin from the outside.”
As the vehicle crossed the state line into Michigan, Marcus’s dashboard radio suddenly buzzed to life with a high-priority encrypted signal.
Marcus hit the speaker button. “Report.”
A weak, static-laced voice came through the speakers. “Marcus… this is Dominic from the South Side docks. We’ve got a problem. Julian’s men just hit the main armory in Cicero. They’re telling the entire Syndicate that Declan lost his mind, executed Meredith, and went on a rampage. Julian has declared himself acting Chairman.”
Emma gasped, clutching the leather book to her chest.
“What about Declan?” Marcus demanded, leaning toward the mic. “Where is the boss?”
“Nobody knows,” Dominic replied, his voice shaking. “The estate burned to the ground two hours ago. Emergency crews are on scene. Julian claims Declan died in the fire!”
Grace sat up instantly, her dark eyes wide with terror. “Daddy?”
Emma grabbed the radio mic, her voice rising in desperation. “Is that true?! Did they find him?!”
“No bodies have been recovered yet,” Dominic said through the static. “But Julian has put a two-million-dollar bounty on the maid and the twins. He’s telling every hitman from Detroit to Minneapolis that Declan’s maid kidnapped his daughters after murdering his sister. They’re hunting you, Marcus. Get off the main highways now!”
The radio feed cut out into harsh white noise.
Marcus slammed his foot on the accelerator, turning the heavy Mercedes off the interstate onto a dark, unpaved back road winding deep into the pitch-black pine forests of Michigan.
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Emma pulled both weeping girls into her lap, wrapping her arms around them as the vehicle plunged into the dark woods.
“He isn't dead,” Emma whispered, her voice fierce, cut with a dangerous certainty she didn't even know she possessed. “Declan Shaw is not dead. And we are going to be waiting for him when he comes back.”
