Page 144 of No Longer Mine

Her arms—free now—wrapped weakly around my neck. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“From now on, you’re going to see me so much, you’re going to get sick of me,” I said.

I stood, lifting her carefully into my arms, her body trembling but alive. The rage hadn’t left me—it was simmering beneath the surface—but for now, relief flooded in like a wave crashing against my ribs.

Don rounded the corner carrying my mother, and I exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours.

My mother’s face was streaked with mascara and tears, but she was alive. Her cheeks were bright pink and her blouse was torn. She blinked slowly when she saw me, then Scarlett in my arms. Her nod was barely a breath, but I saw it. She was telling me to get her out.

I gave Don a look and he nodded back. We didn’t have time for words. Sirens wailed outside, echoing louder now, growing closer with every second.

I pressed a kiss to Scarlett’s temple as we moved. “I’ve got you. We’re almost free.”

The halls of my father’s penthouse—once pristine and curated—now looked like the ruins of a crumbling empire.Paintings askew. Blood on the floor. A shattered vase. The secrets of this place had spilled into the open.

But not him.

Sinclair was gone. I should’ve known the bastard had more than one exit. Hidden rooms, false doors, and buried tunnels—I’d underestimated how deep his contingency plans ran.

I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Don led us out through a secondary stairwell—one that bypassed the lobby entirely. I cradled Scarlett tighter as we slipped into the alley behind the building. A black SUV waited there with the engine already running. Thank God for my brothers.

“What in the actual fuck?” Someone shouted from inside of the van.

Ivan froze as Don helped our mother into the back seat, tucking a coat over her trembling frame. Ivan’s jaw flexed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. I didn’t have the words to explain. None of us did.

Ace was behind the wheel, stone-faced, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he reversed away from the curb. He didn’t say a word—he didn’t need to. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, checking on Mom, then Scarlett, then me.

Everyone was accounted for.

Everyone but our father, who’d escaped and no one knew how. It was probably a lack of man power on my end… Actually, I knew it was exactly that.

I slid into the back seat, cradling Scarlett like she was glass—because, after everything, she felt like it. She hadn’t made a sound since we’d left the apartment. But her eyes stayed open and alert as she watched everything happening around her.

The doors slammed shut, and the SUV peeled off into the night.

Griffin looked pale. “What’s going to happen now?”

Benson’s voice crackled through the car speaker. “He got away in a helicopter posted on the top of the building. I’m currently tracing his flight path.”

I didn’t say a word. My grip on Scarlett tightened, grounding myself in the reality that she was here, safe and breathing.

Ace broke the silence. “We’ll get him. One way or another.”

Scarlett stirred in my arms, her voice barely more than a rasp. “Not if I get to him first.”

The SUV went quiet.

Then Ivan leaned forward between the seats, a wicked grin creeping across his face. “Now that would be the girl Dimitri would fall for.”

I didn’t smile. I just looked down at her—worn, bruised, but still burning bright beneath it all. “Where are we heading?” Ace asked, eyes still flicking between mirrors.

“My brownstone,” I answered quietly.“Benson. Open the garage when we pull up.”

“You got it,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll keep tracking Sinclair.”

A pause.

---