Chapter 4 - THE COLLISION COURSEThe morning sun cast a pale, cold light over Chicago.
The drive to the courthouse was supposed to be routine.
Security detail in two black SUVs.
Gabriel sitting in the back seat with me.
Sophie safely tucked away at the estate with trusted guards.
“Are you nervous?” Gabriel asked, breaking the silence.
He sat beside me, his expression unreadable.
“A little,” I admitted, looking out the tinted window.
“You don't need to be. My legal team has already locked down the restraining order.”
“It’s not the court I’m worried about.”
Gabriel turned to me.
“Then what?”
“Isabella. People like her don't just walk away quietly when they lose.”
Before Gabriel could answer, the driver slammed on the brakes.
The Mercedes lurched violently forward.
My seatbelt dug hard into my shoulder.
“What the hell is going on?” Gabriel barked, grabbing the handle above the door.
“Boss!” the driver yelled over the screech of tires.
“Truck ahead! Coming across the median!”
I looked through the windshield.
A massive semi-truck, its trailer branded with a generic logistics logo, had veered across the concrete divider.
It was barreling straight toward us at sixty miles per hour.
“Hold on!” Gabriel shouted.
He threw his body across the seat, shielding me with his own arms just as the truck slammed into the side of our vehicle.
The sound of twisting metal was deafening.
Airbags exploded outward with white smoke.
The car spun twice across the asphalt before slamming hard into a concrete pillar.
Silence followed.
A heavy, ringing silence.
My ears were buzzing.
I couldn't breathe.
The air smelled of burning rubber and acrid smoke.
“Gabriel?” I choked out, coughing on the smoke.
No answer.
The entire left side of the Mercedes was crushed inward.
Gabriel was slumped motionless against the destroyed door.
His dark suit jacket was stained with a spreading circle of dark red.
“Gabriel!” I screamed, panic tearing through my chest.
I pushed against the deflated airbag.
It was heavy, stubborn.
I shoved it away with both hands and scrambled across the center console.
“Gabriel, wake up,” I sobbed, shaking his shoulder.
His eyes remained closed.
His skin was deathly pale.
Outside the shattered windows, distant car horns blared.
Then, heavy footsteps crunched on the broken glass.
A gloved hand reached through the broken driver's window.
It wasn't police help.
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It was a man holding a heavy crowbar.
[CLIFFHANGER: THE ARMED ASSAILANT REACHES INTO THE WRECKED CAR TO FINISH THE JOB AS HANNAH TRIES TO SHIELD GABRIEL'S UNCONSCIOUS BODY.]
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