The morning air was crisp, clear, and deceptively calm , the kind that made Whistler's mountain roads look like they belonged in a travel magazine. Isabela gripped the steering wheel with both hands, brows furrowed in concentration.
"Ease into the gas," Ethan said from the passenger seat, his tone even and patient. "Smooth turns, not sharp ones."
"I'm trying," she muttered, biting her lip as the car hummed forward. "You make it look easy."
"That's years of bad driving habits and expensive cars," he teased lightly, earning a small laugh from her.
They had rented a silver sedan that morning, Ethan insisting on giving her a few real lessons before heading back to the city. The road was quiet , too quiet. The mountains rose around them like walls, and the forest whispered on both sides.
At first, it felt peaceful. Then Isabela's expression shifted.
"Ethan…" she began, her voice tight. "That black SUV up ahead , has it been there the whole time?"
Ethan leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing. "Where?"
"Down the road," she said. "It was behind us earlier, near the gas station. I noticed it again during our biking yesterday. I think we were being watched then too."
Before Ethan could respond, the SUV's engine roared to life. It pulled out sharply, heading straight toward them.
Ethan's calm vanished. "Isabela, brake , now!"
The sedan screeched as she slammed the pedal. The SUV swerved, missing them by inches, then swung around aggressively, headlights glaring like eyes in pursuit.
"Drive!" Ethan barked.
Isabela hit the gas instinctively, hands trembling but steady. Gravel sprayed from the tires as they sped down the mountain road, the SUV gaining behind them.
"Ethan!" she shouted. "What do they want?"
"Just keep driving toward the city!" he ordered, glancing at his phone. "There's a police station fifteen minutes away , follow the route I sent you."
He quickly shared his location and began snapping pictures through the rear window. The SUV's tinted glass reflected sunlight , and then movement. One of the men inside leaned out of the window, gun in hand.
"Oh my God!" Isabela cried.
"Keep steady!" Ethan shouted. "Don't stop , not for anything!"
Adrenaline surged through her veins. The SUV fired once , a loud crack splitting the morning air. The bullet hit the road behind them, sending up sparks.
Isabela's instincts took over. She swerved hard right, tires squealing, connecting to a busier main road that led toward town. Horns blared as cars scattered.
"Make sure you stay three cars ahead," Ethan said quickly, his voice low but firm. "They can't fire here. Too many witnesses."
"I can't, I don't even know if I'm going the right way!"
"You're doing great," he said, gripping the dashboard. "Just keep going. I've got you."
The SUV weaved through traffic, determined to close the gap. Isabela prayed under her breath, her heart pounding like thunder. Just a few more streets. Just a few more turns.
When she saw the blue,and,white sign for the Whistler Police Department, relief nearly made her cry.
"Left turn , now!" Ethan yelled.
She swerved into the driveway, the car jerking to a stop in front of the station steps. The black SUV halted briefly across the street , and then, just as suddenly, sped away into traffic.
They sat frozen for a moment, the sound of their breathing loud in the confined car.
"Come on," Ethan said, regaining composure. He was already out of the car, moving fast to her side. "Let's go."
They entered the station together, drawing immediate attention. Officers quickly surrounded them as Ethan explained what happened, showing the photos on his phone.
Within minutes, a small escort unit was assigned to accompany them back to the resort to collect their belongings.
The Return
The flight back home was tense and silent. Two men from Ethan's private security team met them at the airport , along with two additional guards sent by his father.
Apparently, word had already spread. The men who chased them weren't random criminals. They were suspected kidnappers who had likely been tracking Ethan since his arrival , maybe even before.
Ethan sat beside Isabela in the car, his tone low as he explained.
"They must've followed us from the airport when we first arrived," he said. "That call I got yesterday… I think it was a warning. But I didn't think it would happen so soon."
Isabela stared out the window, her reflection pale against the city lights. "I thought it was just my imagination when I saw that SUV before."
"You saved our lives today," he said quietly. "You handled yourself better than most trained drivers would've."
She looked at him, searching his face. "You really think they were after you?"
"I think someone doesn't want me alive," Ethan replied, eyes darkening. "And I think the traitor just made his next move."
Back at the Penthouse
When they arrived, security was already stationed outside. Cameras had been installed along the hallway, and new locks gleamed on the penthouse doors.
Inside, a tall man stood near the window , gray, haired, sharp, featured, commanding. Ethan froze, then straightened.
"Dad," he said simply.
"Son," the older man replied, voice deep and steady. He turned, his gaze settling briefly on Isabela. "So you're the young lady who handled a car chase better than most of my men could. Impressive."
"Thank you, sir," Isabela said softly, bowing her head slightly.
He smiled faintly , the resemblance between father and son startling , then motioned for Ethan. "Let's talk."
Ethan followed him into the study, the heavy door closing behind them.
Father and Son
The room smelled faintly of old books and cigar smoke. Ethan's father took a seat behind the large mahogany desk, fingers steepled.
"You need to stop whatever investigation you're running," he said flatly. "This isn't business anymore , it may go bloody. And if you're not careful, it'll cost you everything."
Ethan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You think this attack is connected?"
"I know it is," his father said. "The people you're digging into have reached. You're not invincible, Ethan. Drop it for now."
Ethan exhaled slowly. "I'll slow down. But I won't stop."
His father studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. "You're too much like me. That's the problem."
As he stood to leave, he placed a firm hand on Ethan's shoulder. "Security will stay with you for a few weeks. Don't make me regret giving them the order."
When the door shut behind him, silence settled.
Ethan stared at his reflection in the glass window , tired, angry, but determined. Then he opened his laptop.
He pulled up the photos of the black SUV, zooming in on the license plate. It was blurred, but he'd seen enough. He drafted a message, attached the image, and sent it to an encrypted contact.
Found them. Whistler, BC. Two men, black SUV , armed. Trace and report.
He hit send.
Late Night
After a shower and changing into his nightwear, Ethan lingered by the hallway. The night outside was silent again , deceptively peaceful, like the calm before another storm.
He stopped by Isabela's door and hesitated. A faint light glowed beneath it.
He knocked softly.
"Come in," her voice said.
She sat on the edge of her bed, hair damp from a shower, wearing a pale robe. Her eyes lifted to meet his, still holding traces of the morning's fear.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.
"Not after today," he admitted. He managed a small smile. "You were incredible out there. I mean it."
She laughed weakly. "I nearly crashed twice."
"But you didn't. You kept us alive."
He took a few steps closer, stopping when he was just near enough to feel her warmth.
For a moment, they said nothing. The silence between them wasn't awkward , it was electric.
"Get some rest, Isabela," Ethan said finally, his voice low. "We'll figure the rest out tomorrow."
As he turned to leave, she called softly, "Ethan?"
He paused.
"Whoever they were," she said, "they won't stop, will they?"
He met her gaze, the weight of his thoughts shadowing his eyes.
"No," he said quietly. "Not until the traitor is gone."