Chapter 920
“I tracked Skye’s phone before it went offline.” Liam unlocked the doors. “Get in. Silas has taken Lucian. And about ten minutes ago, he grabbed Felix and Parker from the remote server site. They were moving to what they thought was a safer location and walked straight into a trap.”
“What?” Skye gasped, climbing into the passenger seat.
“He hit the Oracle server room simultaneously,” Liam said, spinning the wheel and accelerating back onto the road. “It’s a clean sweep. He has your tech, your hacker, and your best friend.”
“Why are you here, Liam?” Skye asked.
“Because,” Liam glanced at her, his eyes hard, “Silas made a mistake. He messed with my city. And he messed with you.”
He pressed the accelerator down. “I have a plan. But it’s going to hurt.”
The drive to Graves Manor was silent, tense, and fast. Liam’s armored SUV cut through the night like a shark.
O𝗿𝗀𝖺𝗻i𝘇e 𝘆o𝘶𝗿 𝗅𝗂𝗯𝗿𝘢𝗿y 𝗼𝘯 g𝗮𝗅𝘯o𝘷еl𝗌.𝗰o𝗆
“What’s the plan?” Alistair asked, breaking the silence.
“We knock,” Liam said.
“Excuse me?”
“Silas is arrogant.” Liam checked the magazine of a sleek, custom pistol. “He thinks he’s won. He’s hosting a victory dinner at the manor tonight. I’m on the guest list.”
“And us?” Skye asked.
“You’re my plus-one.” Liam glanced at her. “Can you play the part of the defeated ex-wife begging for mercy?”
“I can play anything,” Skye said, smoothing her torn dress.
“What about Alistair? Silas knows his face. He can’t just walk in.”
“He’s not walking in.” Liam opened the glove compartment and produced a pair of heavy-duty zip ties. “He’s my prisoner. A peace offering to Silas.”
Alistair stared at them. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“It’s the only way to get a weapon close to him,” Liam said. “Trust me.”
They pulled up to the gates of Graves Manor — a gothic monstrosity perched on a cliff edge, waves crashing hundreds of feet below in the darkness.
The guard checked Liam’s ID, then shone a flashlight into the back seat. Alistair was slumped against the door, hands bound behind him, feigning unconsciousness.
“They look rough,” the guard sneered.
“Rough night,” Liam said smoothly, slipping a hundred-dollar bill into the guard’s breast pocket. “I brought some trash for Mr. Graves to take out.”
The gate swung open.
They walked into the lion’s den.
The main hall was draped in red velvet. Silas sat at the head of a long table, presiding over the room like a king. Lucian was tied to a chair at his right, bloody and bruised. Felix and Parker knelt on the floor, gagged.
“Liam!” Silas rose, spreading his arms wide. “And you brought gifts.”
“I brought loose ends.” Liam shoved Skye forward. She stumbled and fell to her knees in front of Silas. Behind her, two guards dragged Alistair in and threw him onto the rug.
“Please,” Skye sobbed, channeling every ounce of genuine fear she had accumulated over the last five years. “Just let them go. I’ll give you Oracle. I’ll give you everything.”
Silas laughed. He strolled over and tilted her chin up with the toe of his shoe. “Pathetic. The great Skye Sterling, begging.”