The intersection was a graveyard of twisted metal and shattered glass. Dust from the deployed airbags hung in the air like a thick, white fog, mixing with the acrid scent of leaking coolant. Inside the overturned Audi, the world was a silent, pulsing nightmare of pain. Aliya could hear her own heartbeat, a frantic thudding in her ears that drowned out everything else until the boots arrived.

The man with the crusty voice didn’t get to say another sentence.

As he reached into the shattered window of the Audi, his fingers inches from Aliya’s jacket, a shadow moved from the periphery of the wreckage. It wasn’t the slow, panicked approach of a witness. It was a blur of calculated motion.

Kovacs had been trailing the Audi from two cars back, a distance Jake had insisted upon to keep the protection invisible. He hadn’t been fast enough to stop the T-bone collision, but he was fast enough for the aftermath. He didn’t shout. He didn’t give a warning. He simply stepped into the man’s space and drove a heavy, reinforced boot into the back of the stranger’s knee.

The intruder let out a sharp, wet crack of a groan as his leg buckled. Before he could hit the pavement, Kovacs gripped the back of his head and slammed it into the frame of the overturned car. The sound was sickening—a dull thud of bone against metal. The man went limp instantly.

Aliya stared through the haze of her own blood and smoke, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. She saw the black-clad figure of Kovacs standing over the unconscious man. For a terrifying second, she thought there was a second attacker.

"Miss Rivers," Kovacs said, his voice low and steady, cutting through her panic. He crouched down, his eyes scanning the surrounding street. "Stay still. Don’t move your neck. Help is already here."

"Who..." she coughed, the copper taste of blood filling her mouth. "Carroll... help Carroll."

"My team is on it," Kovacs replied.

A black Audi RS 6 screeched to a halt, tires smoking as they swerved around the debris. Sarah and Miller jumped out before the vehicle had even fully stopped. They were supposed to be guarding Jake’s parents, but after his father had denied the extra detail, Jake had redirected them to serve as as a rapid-response unit.

"Miller, secure the package," Kovacs ordered, gesturing to the unconscious man on the ground. "Sarah, check the passenger."

Sarah was at the passenger side in seconds, her hands moving with medical precision. She didn’t waste time with words. She reached through the shattered window, stabilizing Carroll’s head with one hand while checking her airway.

"Carroll, stay with me," Sarah muttered, her fingers pressing against the girl’s neck to find a pulse. She pulled a trauma kit from her belt, quickly applying a pressure dressing to the gash on Carroll’s temple. "Pulse is weak, Kovacs. We need the medics now, but I’ve got her stable for the moment. I’m keeping her neck immobilized until they get the shears."

Miller didn’t waste a breath. He hoisted the intruder up by his collar, zip-tying his hands behind his back with a vicious tug. He tossed the man into the back of the lead RS 6 like he was a bag of discarded laundry.

"Get him out of here," Kovacs said, checking his watch. "Sirens in three minutes. Go."

Miller nodded once and peeled away, the RS 6 disappearing into the suburban side streets just as the distant wail of an ambulance began to echo against the buildings.

---

In the passenger seat of the R8, Jake gripped the door handle so hard his knuckles turned white. The engine’s roar was a violent vibration through the floorboards, a physical manifestation of the fury building in his gut. Elias was weaving through traffic with a terrifying, surgical focus, the speedometer climbing well past the city limits.

Behind them, the black Mercedes S-Class was struggling to keep up, its headlights flickering in the rearview mirror as Darius pushed the heavy luxury car to its absolute limit.

"Can you give me more, Elias?" Jake’s voice was a low, dangerous rasp. "Go faster."

Elias glanced at the HUD reflecting on the windshield, his hands tightening on the flat-bottomed wheel. "I can give you everything she’s got, sir. Hold on."

The R8 lunged forward, the V10 screaming as it tore through an opening in the afternoon traffic. The world outside became a blur of gray and green. Behind them, the black Mercedes S-Class was struggling to keep up, its headlights flickering in the rearview mirror as Darius pushed the heavy luxury car to its absolute limit.

’Who was it?’ The question was a repetitive, stabbing beat in Jake’s mind.

Sterling? It felt too clumsy for him. Sterling was a man of contracts and market manipulation, not street-level abductions. But then again, a man losing billions might stop caring about the rules. Or was it someone who had seen the news of the inheritance and thought the new kid was an easy mark?

Jake didn’t relax. He couldn’t. Not until he saw her. The tracking app on his phone showed her location pinned at the emergency entrance of the city’s private medical center.

’I should have been there,’ he thought, the guilt settling in his chest like lead. He had promised her she was safe, and now he was racing to a hospital while her blood was still on a suburban street.

The R8 screeched into the hospital’s circular driveway, barely coming to a stop before Jake was out of the door. He didn’t wait for Elias. He didn’t wait for Darius. He sprinted through the sliding glass doors, the smell of antiseptic hitting him like a wall.

He saw Sarah standing near the nurse’s station, her tactical vest hidden under a civilian jacket. She stepped forward as Jake approached.

"Room 4," she said quietly. "She has a concussion and some lacerations. The roommate is in surgery, but they expect her to pull through."

Jake didn’t say thank you. He couldn’t find the words. He pushed past the curtain of Room 4 and stopped.

Aliya looked small in the hospital bed. Her face was pale, a white bandage taped across her forehead. She was staring at the ceiling, her eyes glazed with the shock of the last hour.

"Aliya," Jake said, his voice breaking the silence.

She turned her head slowly. When she saw him, her lip trembled. "Jake," she sobbed, reaching out a trembling hand.

Hearing her call his name sent a surge of pure, staggering relief through him, momentarily drowning out the rage. He was at her side in a heartbeat, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling her into a careful, tight embrace. He felt her tears soak into his shirt, her small frame shaking against him.

"I’m sorry," he whispered into her hair, his eyes closing tight. "I’m so sorry."

"There was a man," she choked out, her voice muffled against his chest. "He said... he said he was there for me. It wasn’t an accident, Jake. He must have been waiting."

Jake’s grip tightened, his expression shifting from relief to a cold, hollow mask of vengeance.

Darius burst into the room a moment later, breathless and looking every bit his age. He stopped at the foot of the bed, his eyes moving frantically over the bandages and the bruises on Aliya’s arms. He moved toward her, his hands shaking.

"Aliya? Can you hear me?" Darius asked, his voice thick with emotion. He grabbed her hand, looking at the heart monitor as if he needed the rhythmic beep to prove she was actually there.

"She’s fine for now," Jake said, his eyes meeting his uncle’s. There was no warmth in them. The "observations" about the business world they had discussed at lunch felt like child’s play now.

Jake stepped back, giving them space. He looked at his sister one last time, making sure she was safe in their uncle’s care. "You’re safe now," he said softly. "Sarah and Kovacs are staying right outside this door. Nobody gets on this floor without my word."

Jake looked back at his sister, then at Darius. "Stay with her, Uncle. Don’t leave this room."

"Where are you going?" Darius asked, his eyes widening as he saw the look on Jake’s face.

He signaled Sarah, and she followed him out into the hallway, away from the hum of the hospital room and Aliya’s hearing. Jake stopped by the elevators, his back to the door.

"Where is he?" Jake asked.

"The warehouse," Sarah replied. "Miller is waiting for your call."

Jake didn’t answer. He turned and walked out of the room, his stride long and purposeful. He didn’t know who had sent the man, and he didn’t know how deep the rot went. Jake looked at his reflection in the polished metal of the elevator doors. He knew one thing for certain as he stepped back into the lobby where Elias was waiting with the R8 still idling.

By the time the sun went down, he was going to have a name.

---