Chapter 426
Chapter 426:
The convoy wound through the wet streets of Cloud City, heading toward the Cloud Zenith Hotel. Lucian had insisted on a night there before flying to his private island—his jet was supposedly undergoing maintenance.
Skye sat in the back of the armored SUV, the leather cold against her skin. Lucian held her hand, his thumb rubbing her knuckles in a rhythmic, irritating motion.
“We’ll be safe at the Zenith,” he murmured. “The penthouse is a fortress p>
Skye watched the city pass by—gray buildings, gray sky, gray people. She memorized the route. Left on Fifth. Right on Harbor.
She checked the driver—armed, earpiece in. The door locks were engaged.
Suddenly, her phone—the one Lucian allowed her to keep, monitored and locked down—buzzed in her pocket. A notification from a generic weather app.
Weather Alert: Storm clearing in Sector 4. Expect turbulence.
Skye’s breath hitched.
It was code. Felix used weather metaphors. “Storm clearing” meant they had a lock. “Sector 4” was her location.
They knew.
Lucian thought he had ghosted the signal, but he had underestimated Alistair’s persistence.
Or maybe Dominic had tipped them off.
The car pulled up to the Cloud Zenith. It was a monolith of glass and steel piercing the fog. The lobby was empty, cleared for their arrival.
“Welcome home, darling,” Lucian said, escorting her out.
But as they crossed the threshold, chaos erupted.
SCREECH.
A heavy municipal garbage truck roared out of a side alley, ignoring the red light. It slammed into the lead SUV of their convoy—the one carrying the luggage and half the guards—with the force of a battering ram.
CRUNCH.
Metal screamed as the SUV was T-boned, spinning wildly across the wet asphalt before flipping onto its side.
Skye screamed, covering her head as debris rained down.
𝗥e𝗮d 𝗐it𝗁𝗈𝗎𝘁 𝘭і𝗆іtѕ 𝘰𝗻 𝖻e𝘭𝗻𝘰𝘃𝗲𝗅ѕ.𝗰𝗼𝘮
Lucian grabbed her, hauling her back toward the hotel doors.
“Ambush!” Lucian shouted, pulling his gun. “Inside! Now p>
Gunfire erupted from the rooftops. It wasn’t the precision fire of a rescue team. It was suppressive, chaotic. Bullets strafed the pavement, shattering the hotel’s glass facade.
“Cleaners!” a guard yelled, returning fire.
“No,” Skye thought, seeing the reckless violence. “This isn’t Alistair p>
They scrambled into the lobby, glass crunching under their feet.
The heavy security doors slammed shut, sealing them in.
“We’re trapped,” Lucian snarled, looking at the carnage outside. “Someone sold us out p>
While the war began in Cloud City, a different kind of battle was taking place in a sterile white room at Sea City Hospital.
Liam Kensington lay in a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. He had been there for three days, admitted for “exhaustion” and a “mental breakdown” after the incident on the cliff. Or so they told him.
He felt wrong. His head was filled with cotton wool, his thoughts sluggish and disconnected. He looked at the IV drip in his arm. A clear liquid dripped steadily.
Drip. Drip.
A sudden, sharp clarity pierced the fog. A connection snapped into place. He felt… fear. Not his own.
Skye’s.