Chapter 5 - The Harbor Safehouse
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We bypassed the main hospital lobby completely. My father’s men—two massive, bearded dock supervisors who moved with quiet, intimidating efficiency—were waiting with a running SUV in the loading bay. My son slept the entire way, curled in my lap as the city lights blurred past the tinted windows.
My father didn't take us back to his sprawling suburban home. He knew Julian would look there first. Instead, we drove deep into the industrial sector of the Chicago harbors.
We pulled into a heavily gated shipping yard surrounded by towering stacks of metal cargo containers. At the center of the yard sat a reinforced, windowless concrete building that my father used as an overflow operations center during the busy season.
“It’s not luxury,” my father said as he unlocked the heavy steel door. “But it’s impenetrable. Only three people know the access codes, and they are men who have worked for me for twenty years. Julian will never find you here.”
Inside, the building was surprisingly comfortable. It featured a small kitchenette, a clean bathroom, and two simple cots set up with fresh blankets. It smelled faintly of coffee and engine grease.
I laid my son down on one of the cots, covering him gently. My entire body ached with a deep, profound exhaustion, but my mind was racing too fast to sleep.
“Dad, Julian isn't just going to give up,” I whispered, sitting at the small metal table in the center of the room. “He needs control. Losing his family destroys his perfect corporate image.”
“Let him worry about his image,” my father said, pouring me a glass of water. “Marcus Thorne will handle the courts. Your only job right now is to heal.”
My phone buzzed in my coat pocket.
I pulled it out. The screen lit up with a terrifying notification.
Your account access has been revoked.
I quickly opened my banking app. The joint account, the savings account, and even the credit cards were completely locked out. Julian had called the banks the second he abandoned his truck, claiming fraudulent activity to freeze every single asset we shared.
“He cut me off,” I said, panic rising in my chest. “I have exactly two hundred dollars in my secret account. He took everything else.”
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My father didn't blink. He reached into his heavy canvas jacket and tossed a thick, sealed envelope onto the metal table.
“Julian thinks he can starve you out,” my father smiled grimly. “He forgets who raised you.”
