Chapter 7 - FLIGHT TO THE MOUNTAINS
The estate was compromised. Within twenty minutes, we were airborne again, leaving the smoking ruins of Julian's failed coup behind. We flew to a nameless, off-the-grid cabin nestled deep in the jagged peaks of the Rockies. There was no cell service, no internet, and no staff. Just the three of us, surrounded by miles of frozen wilderness.
The isolation forced a new dynamic. Stripped of his bodyguards and boardrooms, Lucas was just a man chopping wood to keep us warm, cooking simple meals over a cast-iron stove. The trauma of the attack bonded us in a way months of conversation never could.
One evening, after Elara finally fell asleep in a makeshift crib, Lucas poured two glasses of whiskey and handed me one by the roaring fire. The dancing flames illuminated the harsh, exhausted lines of his face.
"Julian is freezing my assets," Lucas said, staring into the fire. "He's telling the board I've gone mad with grief, that I murdered Elias in a paranoid rage. He's trying to force a federal warrant."
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"Can he win?" I asked, pulling a heavy woolen blanket tighter around my shoulders.
Lucas turned to look at me, the heat in his eyes matching the fire. "Not if I burn his world down first."
