Chapter 147: The Rescue
[EVE]
Being kidnapped wasn't exactly a first for me, but that didn't make it any less infuriating.
My initial guess was that Sullivan was behind this—who else would have the audacity and motive to kidnap me?
But what really puzzled me was how Cole and his team could have let this happen. Weren't they supposed to be on guard? How could they miss something this blatant? And where the hell were they now?
I was starting to doubt if they were as skilled and efficient as they made themselves out to be.
I was slung over the shoulder of my kidnapper like a sack of potatoes, every bump and jolt sending sharp pain through my sides.
The ropes binding my wrists and ankles were tight, cutting into my skin. Whoever tied them knew what they were doing—there was no room for me to wiggle free.
And then there was the classic gag in my mouth, silencing any scream or cry for help before it could even leave my throat.
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back the wave of panic rising in my chest. This wasn't some amateur job. The speed and efficiency with which I was moved through the Ashford property were proof enough of that.
I was out of the mansion's grounds in minutes, the opulent halls and sprawling gardens left behind as we entered the dense forest.
The cold night air whipped against my face, and I felt the uneven rhythm of my kidnapper's breathing against my body.
His footsteps were fast, calculated, barely making a sound as he navigated through the dark, rocky terrain of the mountain range.
I could hear the crunch of leaves and the snapping of twigs beneath us. Each sound was swallowed by the vast, eerie silence of the forest, making the whole situation feel even more surreal.
The scent of pine and damp earth filled my nose, a stark contrast to the polished, perfumed air of the Ashford mansion.
My mind raced, piecing together the situation. This was a well-planned operation; there was no other explanation. They must have known the layout, the security details, everything.
It wasn't a random hit—they came prepared.
And yet, as much as I tried to keep my thoughts focused on figuring out who these people were, a different worry gnawed at me:
Where was Cole?
Was he even aware that I'd been taken?
I gritted my teeth behind the gag, frustration boiling in my veins. The more I struggled, the more the ropes bit into my skin, sending a sharp, burning pain up my arms. I forced myself to stay still. I couldn't afford to panic.
Not now.
Whoever these people were, they knew exactly what they were doing. And whatever they had planned, I knew it wasn't going to be good.
Despite my dire situation, all I could think about was Cole.
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He swore he would protect me, yet here I was, slung over a stranger's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, bound and gagged.
Anger and panic bubbled up inside me. How could he let this happen?
Suddenly, we came to an abrupt halt. I felt my captor stiffen, and the air seemed to grow heavier. Desperately, I twisted my head to catch a glimpse of what was happening. And then, I saw him.
Cole was standing in the middle of the forest path, blocking our way. His expression was deadly calm, eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at my kidnapper.
In that moment, he looked like a storm ready to unleash its fury. The sight of him made my chest tighten, and tears welled up in my eyes—tears of relief. He had found me.
Cole's gaze shifted, locking onto mine, and the cold, dangerous look in his eyes softened instantly.
He took a step closer, his voice low but filled with a promise, "Don't worry, Eve. You're safe now."
I wanted to scream at him, to demand why he let it get this far. Where was he when the kidnapper first appeared? What was he doing? How could he let me be taken from right under his nose?
But all those thoughts vanished the moment our eyes met. The fury I felt melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief.
My body went limp, surrendering to the exhaustion and fear that had been coursing through me. I knew, in that instant, that everything was going to be okay.
Cole was here. And as long as he was by my side, I knew I would be safe.
Or so I thought.
My relief was short-lived as Cole lunged forward without hesitation. My captor jerked back, clutching me tighter.
I felt the sharp pain of his fingers digging into my ribs as he spun around, trying to shield himself from Cole's attack.
The clash was brutal. Cole was relentless, a whirlwind of fists and fury. He was like a force of nature—quick, and terrifying.
My captor, on the other hand, was struggling. With me in his grip, he was at a severe disadvantage, unable to match Cole's speed or strength.
I could feel his grip faltering with each blow he barely managed to block.
I twisted in his hold, trying to free myself, but he held on with a desperate, vice-like grip. It didn't make sense—why wasn't he letting me go to fight back properly?
Was I some kind of shield to him?
Was that why Cole wasn't using his guns? He was afraid of hitting me.
My captor, however, had no such reservations. I could hear the deafening shots ringing out as he fired recklessly at Cole, using me as a human shield.
Every time I heard the trigger pull, my heart stopped, praying desperately that the next bullet wouldn't find its mark.
I hated Cole. I'd cursed his name countless times, wished him dead for the pain he caused me. But seeing him now, risking everything to save me, I realized with a shock—I didn't want him to die.
Not like this.
The thought of him bleeding out in the dirt, lifeless and cold, made something inside me twist painfully. Even if I had wanted revenge, I never wanted it at the cost of someone's life.
It wasn't supposed to end this way. People had families, people who would mourn them—grief-stricken mothers, fathers, siblings who had no part in my vendetta.
I might have been vengeful, but I wasn't a killer. And I didn't want to become one, not by causing the death of someone else's loved one.