Chapter 13 - The Betrayal
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At 11:00 PM the following night, the Caldwell estate was in a state of absolute, frantic chaos.
Ryan Caldwell was pacing his bedroom, shoving stacks of cash, passports, and a loaded handgun into a designer duffel bag. He was sweating profusely, his hands shaking. He had heard his father's phone call with Gabriel Thorne. He knew his father was actively considering handing him over.
"I have to get out of here," Ryan muttered to himself, zipping the bag closed.
The bedroom door opened. Ryan spun around, raising the gun in panic.
It was his best friend, Chase, one of the few wealthy heirs who hadn't mysteriously vanished over the last forty-eight hours.
"Whoa, Ryan, put it down!" Chase gasped, raising his hands in surrender.
"Chase! Thank God," Ryan breathed a sigh of relief, lowering the weapon. "You have to help me get to the private airstrip. My dad grounded my jet, but if we take your car, we can charter a flight out of state. I have the cash."
Chase looked at the duffel bag, then at Ryan’s panicked face. He slowly lowered his hands.
"Ryan... I can't do that, man," Chase said, his voice dropping.
Ryan frowned, stepping forward. "What are you talking about? We're brothers. You have to help me! The Thorne Syndicate is hunting me over some stupid maid!"
Chase looked at the floor, refusing to meet Ryan's eyes. "I got a call an hour ago, Ryan. From a man named Elias."
Ryan’s blood ran cold.
"He said if I helped you, my entire family would be wiped out by morning," Chase whispered, tears of fear springing to his eyes. "He said if I brought you to the service entrance of the estate... they would let me live."
"You sold me out?!" Ryan roared, raising the gun again.
Before Ryan could pull the trigger, the heavy glass windows of the bedroom shattered inward.
Two massive men in tactical gear repelled into the room from the roof. Before Ryan could even turn around, a heavy boot kicked the gun from his hand, and a rifle butt slammed brutally into the back of his skull.
Ryan collapsed to the floor, his vision swimming in darkness.
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The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was his best friend, Chase, turning his back and walking out of the room.
"Target secured," one of the tactical men spoke into his radio. "Bring the van around."
