The tires screeched as Ryan slammed the accelerator, roaring through the streets of Mexico City. Ella's chest heaved, adrenaline thudding louder than her heartbeat. Behind them, black SUVs sliced through traffic like wolves in a hunt.
"I can't believe he did that—he murdered her—he murdered your mom," she whispered, wind rushing through her hair from the open window.
Ryan didn't answer. His jaw was clenched so tight it looked like he might shatter his own teeth. His eyes burned with fury, grief—and something darker.
"Ryan," she reached for his arm, "look at me."
His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "I've waited years for answers, Ella. And I thought I was ready. But I didn't know it would feel like this."
She swallowed. "Where are we going?"
"A safe house. Just outside the city. Someone I trust. Barely."
The chase behind them faded into distant horns and flashing lights. When they crossed the outskirts, silence replaced the chaos. And finally, Ryan exhaled like it was the first time he'd breathed in years.
******
The Safe House – 3:12 AM
An abandoned villa. Hidden behind thick palms and overgrown fences. The moonlight poured over cracked tiles and vines strangling the columns.
Inside, it was cold and dim. A dusty chandelier dangled from the ceiling like a forgotten crown.
"This is your 'safe house'?" Ella whispered.
He gave her a look. "Don't let the dust fool you. This place has cameras, panic buttons, even backup generators."
They settled into a room upstairs. It was small but warm enough. Ella stood by the window, arms crossed.
Ryan poured whiskey into a chipped glass. "Want some?"
"I want to feel something," she muttered.
He handed it to her.
They drank in silence.
Then he said it—quietly.
"I'm sorry."
She turned to him. "For what?"
"For dragging you into my world. For thinking I could protect you from all this."
She stepped closer. "You didn't drag me. I ran into it. Eyes open. Heart wide."
He looked at her, jaw twitching. "You shouldn't have to deal with this. Not murder. Not betrayal. Not—"
"Ryan," she cut him off gently, "you're not your father."
"I might be," he said, voice raw. "And that terrifies me."
Ella reached out and touched his chest, just above his heart. "Then let me remind you who you are."
****
The Tension
The air between them crackled. Her fingers lingered on his skin. His breath hitched.
She stepped closer. He didn't move away.
"I thought you hated me when we met," she whispered.
"I did," he said hoarsely. "I hated how you made me feel. Vulnerable. Exposed. Like you could see right through the façade."
Her hand slid up his neck, her thumb brushing his jaw.
"And now?"
"Now I hate that I can't go a second without wanting you."
The glass slipped from his hand.
Shattered.
Their mouths collided like thunder.
It wasn't sweet. It was desperate, angry, hungry. His hands in her hair. Hers gripping his shirt, yanking him closer.
She moaned softly against his lips, and it undid him.
He lifted her off the floor and walked her backward to the bed. They crashed into it like a storm, limbs tangled, breath hot.
"Tell me to stop," he rasped, voice shaking.
But her fingers were already at his belt. "Don't you dare."
****
The Morning After
Sunlight spilled across tangled sheets and bare skin.
Ella stirred first, her body sore in the best kind of way. She rolled over and found Ryan lying on his back, arm over his face.
She ran a finger along his chest. "Are we alive?"
He chuckled softly. "Barely."
There was a peace in that room—momentary, but real.
She leaned over and kissed his shoulder. "What now?"
Ryan sat up. "We expose him. But not just my father—everyone who helped cover it up. The lawyer. The doctor. The security heads. The money trail."
She nodded. "And how do we do that?"
He looked at her. "You said once you wanted to be a journalist, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, baby," he smirked, "you just got your first story."
****
Later That Day
Ryan hacked into a private server using an encrypted laptop from a secret drawer under the villa's floorboards. Ella stood beside him, watching as file after file downloaded—medical records, payment transfers, hidden camera footage.
But then—his fingers stopped.
"What is it?" she asked.
He zoomed in on a document.
Her face paled.
It wasn't about Evelyn.
It was about her.
Ella Martinez.
Birth records. School data. Financial aid. Even private photos taken from her old phone—ones she never sent.
Ryan scrolled down.
At the bottom, one file was red-labeled: "PROTOCOL: TERMINATE IF NEEDED."
Ella gasped. "They… they were planning to kill me too?"
Ryan's eyes met hers. "They still might."
Suddenly, the screen blinked red.
"INTRUSION DETECTED."
A voice cut through the speakers: "Did you really think you could outplay me, son?"
It was Arthur.
Live.
Watching them.
"Run, baby," he said coldly. "Because this time, I'm not playing nice."
The screen went black.
A gunshot cracked outside the villa.
Then another.
And a third.
Ryan grabbed Ella.
"WE NEED TO MOVE. NOW!"