Chapter 10: The Standoff and the Stakes
Lila Harper's breath froze in her chest as the gunman's cold eyes bored into her, his pistol steady in the dim light of Kane Enterprises' parking garage.
The USB drive, burning a hole in her pocket, held secrets that could take down Richard Holt—his dirty deals, her mom's past, maybe even her father's identity—but it could also destroy her and Ethan if it went public. Ethan's grip on her hand was iron, his body angled to shield her, but the black SUV behind the gunman idled like a predator, its engine a low growl. At 28, pregnant, and out of options, Lila felt the weight of her unborn child's life pressing down. One wrong move, and Holt's men would end them both.
"Last chance," the gunman said, his voice flat. "The drive. Now."
Ethan's jaw clenched, his voice low but steady. "You're not getting shit until you back off. Tell Holt he's done playing games."
The gunman smirked, stepping closer. "Big talk, Kane. You're out of your league. Hand it over, or she's first." He tilted the gun toward Lila, and her stomach lurched.
Her mind raced—Tina's betrayal at the storage unit, tossing them the USB with Holt's crimes, had led to this. The drive had audio of Holt and her mom, Angela, plotting decades ago, plus emails calling Lila a "loose end." Giving it up might save them now, but it would leave Holt untouchable, free to keep threatening her baby. She glanced at Ethan, his eyes fierce but flickering with fear, and knew he was thinking the same thing.
"Screw this," Lila said, her voice shaking but defiant. She yanked the USB from her pocket, holding it up. "You want it? Come take it."
"Lila, no!" Ethan hissed, but she stepped forward, her heart pounding. The gunman's eyes narrowed, and for a split second, she thought he'd shoot. Then a shout echoed from the garage's entrance—Claire Kane, sprinting toward them, her phone raised like a weapon.
"Smile, asshole," Claire yelled, snapping photos. "You're on camera, and I've got a live feed to my office. Shoot, and you're done."
The gunman froze, his gun wavering. Lila seized the moment, tossing the USB to Ethan, who caught it one-handed. "Go!" she shouted, shoving him toward the SUV. The gunman lunged, but Claire darted between them, her heels clicking like a battle cry.
"Run, now!" Claire snapped, and Lila and Ethan bolted for the SUV. The gunman cursed, retreating to the black SUV as its tires screeched, peeling out of the garage. Ethan gunned the engine, roaring into the city's rain-slicked streets, Lila's heart still hammering.
"You okay?" Ethan asked, his voice rough, his eyes flicking to her.
"Barely," Lila said, clutching the ledger from Angela's storage unit, her hands trembling. "Claire just saved our asses. But that guy's not done."
Ethan's grip tightened on the wheel. "Neither are we. That USB's our leverage, but Holt's got Russo's muscle now. We need to know what's on it—all of it."
Lila nodded, but her mind was on Claire's warning about Victor Russo, a mob-connected figure tied to Holt's old crimes. If Russo was involved, the brick through her window and the X leaks were just the start. And the cops sniffing around Maya's bar, looking for Lila after a "break-in" at Holt's office, meant Holt was framing her to tie up loose ends.
They pulled into a motel on the city's outskirts, a neon-lit dump with peeling paint and a flickering Vacancy sign. Ethan paid cash for a room, no questions asked, and they huddled inside, the USB and ledger on a wobbly table. Lila's clothes were still damp from the rain, her nerves raw, but she powered up Ethan's laptop, her fingers shaking as she plugged in the drive.
"Claire's meeting us here," Ethan said, checking his phone. "She's got more on Russo. But we need to move fast—Holt's not waiting."
Lila opened a new file—an audio clip, dated a year before her birth. Holt's voice, younger but unmistakable, filled the room: "Angela's getting sloppy. If she talks, Russo's deal collapses. We need her gone." A second voice—James Kane, Ethan's dad—replied: "Handle it, Holt. I'm not losing the company over a junkie."
Lila's blood ran cold. "Your dad knew," she whispered. "He let Holt frame my mom for Russo's deal."
Ethan's face paled, his hands clenching. "My dad was a bastard, but this… Jesus, Lila, I'm sorry."
"Don't," she said, her voice sharp. "Sorry doesn't fix this. Holt's been after me since I was born. My mom took the fall, and now he's coming for me and the baby."
She clicked another file—an email from Holt to Russo, dated last month: "Kane's assistant is digging. If she finds the truth about her father, we're exposed. Handle it." Lila's heart stopped. Holt wasn't just hiding her dad's identity—he was terrified of it.
Before she could process, the door burst open, and Claire stormed in, her face grim. "You two are lucky I got there when I did," she said, tossing her phone on the table. "That gunman's one of Russo's guys. I ran his plates—connected to a warehouse Russo owns downtown."
Lila's eyes widened. "Russo's in the city?"
"Worse," Claire said, pulling out a folder. "I found this in Dad's safe. It's a contract between Holt and Russo, signed twenty years ago. They funneled money through Angela's drops to fund a real estate scam. When it went south, Holt pinned it on her, and Russo's been holding it over him ever since. If you've got proof tying Holt to that deal, we can burn him."
Ethan gestured at the USB. "We've got it. But it's got dirt on Dad, too. If this goes public, Kane Enterprises is done."
"Then we don't go public," Lila said, her voice hard. "We use it to scare Holt. Make him back off."
Claire's eyes narrowed. "It's not that simple. Russo's not just a money guy—he's got blood on his hands. I poked around, and now I've got a tail. Someone's watching me."
Lila's stomach twisted. "You're in danger because of us?"
"I'm in danger because I'm a Kane," Claire snapped. "Holt's been gunning for our family since Dad died. This is personal."
Ethan's phone buzzed—a new X post, trending fast: a photo of Lila and Ethan at the diner earlier, captioned: Kane and his mistress are hiding something big. Time's up. The comments were a bloodbath: Criminals stick together. What's on that USB?
Lila's hands shook. "Holt's leaking our every move. He knows we have the drive."
Claire grabbed her phone, her face darkening. "There's more. My contact at the precinct just texted—cops are issuing a warrant for you, Lila. They found your fingerprints at Holt's office from your visit. He's framing you for theft."
Lila's vision blurred, the room spinning. "I didn't steal anything. He's setting me up to take me out."
Ethan stood, his voice raw. "We're not letting him win. We take the USB to the board, expose Holt before the cops get you. I'm not losing you, Lila. Not you, not our kid."
Her heart twisted at his words, the first time he'd claimed their baby without hesitation. But before she could respond, a loud bang shook the motel door. A voice outside growled, "Open up, Harper. You're coming with us."
Lila's eyes locked on Ethan's, the USB in her hand feeling like a grenade. The cops—or worse, Russo's men—were here, and their time was up.