Lowell didn''t dare hesitate, yanking the steering wheel hard. The car veered off the main road and onto a narrowne.


    Tarquin spoke again. "Go to the end, turn around, and stop!"


    Lowell did as he was told. When he reached the end, he spun the car around and mmed on the brakes, bringing it to a steady halt.


    Directly ahead, three cars that had been tailing them pulled up, their high beams blindingly bright as they blocked the entrance to thene. They had been on their tail since they left the Bradford family estate, boxing them in, trying to ram their car. That''s why he wasn''t home yet, even though it should have been after ten.


    Tarquin knew Elysia wanted him home by midnight, and he was anxious to get back to his wife. After ying cat and mouse with them on the road for over an hour, his patience had run out.


    "Get out!"


    Tarquin ordered Lowell as he pushed his own door open and stepped out. Lowell scrambled out of the driver''s side and followed. Seeing Tarquin get into the driver''s seat, Lowell quickly circled around to the passenger side and jumped in.


    "Seatbelt."


    After the sharp reminder, Tarquin shifted into gear and mmed the gas pedal to the floor. The car shot forward like a bullet. The ck luxury sedan roared to life,


    hurtling toward the cars ahead. Even as they were about to collide, Tarquin didn''t slow down.


    Lowell, terrified, gripped the handle, swallowing nervously. Tarquin''s brow was furrowed, his eyes fixed ahead, resolute, with no intention of stopping.


    The other driver, seeing he was serious, tried to back off. Tarquin gave them no chance, ramming straight into them.


    The impact sent the other car flying several feet, rolling over a few times before it came to a dead stop. The remaining two cars tried to flee, but their escape was blocked by the wrecked vehicle.


    A few minutester, all three cars that had been following him were out ofmission. Tarquin checked the time, told Lowell to stay and clean up the mess, and drove home.


    On the way, he received a text message.


    [Heard you''ve been under a lot of stresstely, so I arranged for some people to race with you. Give you a little excitement. Fun, right? You used to love racing when you were a kid.]


    Tarquin''s expression hardened into a facade of cold granite. He didn''t bother


    replying; he didn''t need to. Despite the unknown phone''s number, the venom in the words was unmistakable. He knew exactly who was rattling the cage.


    Two video files followed. The


    second he tapped y,


    bloodcurdling screams shattered the silence of the car. The footage was fow and brutal- Gideo Bradford being mercilessly tortured in the first, and the Thorne family enduring the same gruesome fate in the second. The images were gruesome, bloody, and violent, an


    assault on the eyes.


    The sender texted again: [We have a history of both love and hate, Tarquin. Happy early birthday.]


    Seeing that name, Tarquin''s brow tightened, the fury in his eyes deepening. Only two people in the world had ever called him ''Tarquin.'' His mother, and... All the clues pointed to that person. Tarquin frowned and lit a cigarette. He stopped at a red light, smoking as he watched the bustling traffic outside his window, a wave of despair


    washing over his anger.


    Half an hourter, Tarquin arrived home, havingposed himself. Elysia wasn''t in


    the bedroom. He texted her. [Not home?]


    Elysia replied instantly. [Go take a shower first. I''ll be back in the bedroom in a minute.]


    Tarquin assumed she was still in


    Baby''s room and didn''t think much of it. He sent a hug emoji and


    headed for the bathroom. Just as he stepped out of the shower, the bedroom lights suddenly went out. The next second musje started y. Elysia appeared, holding a cake, walking slowly toward him...


    to,


    Tarquin''s handsome eyes narrowed. He had guessed Elysia would celebrate his birthday at midnight, but... he hadn''t guessed she would y his parents'' favorite song. Who ys a slow, ssical bad for a birthday?


    The candlelight illuminated her small, fair face. Seeing her standing there, dressed neatly and humming along so seriously, he didn''tugh. His expression became as solemn as hers.