"We've got company!" I shouted over the engine's roar, tightening my grip on Kyue's jacket and nodding toward the rearview mirror.
Kyue glanced at the mirror, then twisted to look over his shoulder. His posture changed instantly, tension replacing his previous relaxed confidence.
"Harris's men," he confirmed, voice tight. "Hold on. This is about to get interesting."
The light turned green, and instead of accelerating normally, Kyue gunned the engine. The motorcycle shot forward withsuch force that I nearly flew off the back, my fingers digging desperately into the leather of his jacket. The sedans accelerated too, their powerful engines allowing them to keep pace despite the traffic.
Kyue wove between cars with terrifying precision, squeezing through gaps that seemed impossibly narrow. My heart hammered against my ribs as we leaned into turns at angles that defied physics, the ground rushing by inches from my knee.
"Are you trying to kill us?" I screamed as we shot through a space between a delivery truck and a taxi that was barely wider than the handlebars.
Kyue's laugh vibrated through his back and into my chest. "If I wanted to kill us, we'd be dead already!" He took a hard right into an alley so narrow I could have reached out and touched the walls on either side. "Julian really married a trouble magnet, didn't he?"
The sedans couldn't follow us into the alley, but I caught glimpses of them paralleling our route on the main streets, trying to anticipate where we'd emerge. Kyue seemed to sense this too, making unpredictable turns that had me clinging to him like a terrified koala.
We burst out onto a main thoroughfare, Kyue expertly weaving through the congested lanes of traffic while I held on for dear life. My knuckles were white inside my gloves, my thighs aching from gripping the motorcycle so tightly.
"I think we lost them!" I shouted after several minutes of Kyue's insane driving had put considerable distance between us and any sign of the black sedans.
"Not taking chances," Kyue called back, making another sharp turn that had me pressing against his back to avoid sliding off. "Julian would have my head if I brought them straight to him."
We continued our wild path through the city for another ten minutes, Kyue occasionally checking the mirrors before finally seeming satisfied that we weren't being followed.
The motorcycle slowed to a more reasonable speed as we approached a gleaming office tower that rose into the sky like a monument to wealth and power. The glass exterior reflected the afternoon sun, creating an almost blinding effect as we pulled up to the entrance.
"D'Amato Technologies?" I murmured, recognizing the logo etched into the glass doors.
Kyue killed the engine and helped me off the motorcycle, my legs wobbling slightly after the adrenaline-fueled ride. "Julian's waiting inside."
I removed the helmet, my hair probably sticking up in all directions, and handed it back to Kyue. "Thanks for the rescue. And the... interesting ride."
He grinned, taking the helmet. "Any time. Though next time, maybe just take Julian's security detail to family reunions?"
I laughed, the sound surprising me after everything that had happened. "Noted."
We entered the building's massive lobby, the cool air a welcome relief after the heat of the motorcycle and the summer day. My eyes immediately found Julian, his wheelchair positioned directly in front of the entrance, his expression one of barely contained fury that softened momentarily when his eyes landed on me.
Michael stood beside him, as imposing as ever in his perfectly tailored suit, along with two other men who had the unmistakable look of security personnel.
Julian didn't seem to notice any of them. His entire focus was on me, his dark eyes scanning me from head to toe as if checking for injuries.
"You're safe," he stated, not as a question but as a declaration that brooked no argument.
I nodded, suddenly exhausted as the adrenaline that had kept me going began to fade. "They were going to—"
Julian cut me off, reaching out to take my hand in his. His grip was warm and solid, an anchor in the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "I know. They'll never touch you again."
The promise in his voice was dangerous, possessive, and exactly what I needed to hear. There was something in his eyes—a cold fury when he thought about what my family had done, but also something softer, something that seemed reserved only for me.
"They sold me," I said quietly, the words still difficult to speak aloud despite knowing the truth for days now. "My own brother set it up. He's friends with Harris."
Julian's jaw tightened, the muscle there jumping with tension. His fingers squeezed mine, not painfully but with enough pressure to draw my focus back to him, away from the horror of my family's betrayal.
"Look at me, Connor," he commanded softly.
I did, finding in his eyes a certainty that steadied me.
"You are not property," Julian said, each word clear and precise. "You are not merchandise. You are Connor Montgomery now, and what's mine stays mine."
