Chapter 6 - THE ESCAPE

“Hold on to me,” Nathaniel whispered to Rose, his tone turning instantly decisive.
He pulled a hidden lever inside the panic recess. A seamless panel behind them slid open silently, revealing a narrow, dark utility shaft containing an iron spiral staircase—the private maintenance access leading down to the building’s lower mechanical floors.
Nathaniel pushed Rose through first, stepping in behind her and sealing the panel just as a heavy thud echoed through the study—the men kicking the lock off the outer door.
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!
Suppressed gunshots shattered the wood paneling inside the office, but Nathaniel and Rose were already descending the iron stairs in total darkness.
Rose’s feet slipped on the metal steps, her hand injuries making it impossible to grip the handrail securely.
“I’ve got you,” Nathaniel said, his strong arm sweeping around her waist, catching her weight effortless against his chest. He literally carried her down the last three flights of stairs until they burst through a heavy fire door into the third-floor parking garage.
The garage was silent, filled with row after row of luxury vehicles belonging to the building's high-net-worth tenants.
Nathaniel didn't head for his Aston Martin—that car was too recognizable. He ran toward a dusty, unpretentious gray Ford SUV parked in a corner space—his private, unregistered transport vehicle.
He unlocked it remotely, tossed Rose into the passenger seat, climbed into the driver’s side, and slammed the engine start button.
The engine roared to life.
Just as Nathaniel slammed the gear into reverse, the fire stairs door flew open. The three armed men burst into the garage, raising their weapons.
“Get down!” Nathaniel roared.
Rose threw herself into the footwell as bullets shattered the SUV’s rear windshield. Glass rained down across her back.
Nathaniel floored the accelerator in reverse, crashing through the wooden parking gate, spinning the wheel violently 180 degrees, and launching the heavy SUV down the concrete exit ramp onto the street.
They burst out into the cool rain of Manhattan, tires screaming against the asphalt as Nathaniel merged into the midnight traffic on West Street.
Rose pulled herself up from the floorboards, shaking violently, her hair covered in glass safety beads.
“Are you hit?” Nathaniel asked frantically, checking her over with one hand while keeping his eyes on the rear-view mirror.
“No... no, I’m okay,” Rose breathed, looking back through the blown-out rear window. “Did they follow us?”
“No,” Nathaniel said, his eyes scanning the road. “They won't risk a open street chase. But we can't go to any of my properties. They have access to my digital network.”
He pulled his phone out, smashed the SIM card with his thumb, and tossed it out the broken window into a storm drain.
“Where are we going?” Rose asked, clutching her seatbelt.
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Nathaniel looked at her, his face grim, his eyes burning with a dark, dangerous resolve.
“To the one place they won't look,” he said. “To the hospital where my mother is hiding.”