Chapter 3 Escape With Fire

"Layla!"

Ryder's words cut through the darkness like a blade.

He emerged from the shadows with powerful lines and sharp edges, and his posture was wide, defensive, and purposeful. His weapon remained pointed at the man lying in the grass, whimpering in pain. Layla's pulse pounded like a battle drum, her breath ragged from the dash, the fear, and the rush of adrenaline that made her legs tremble.

"Run!" he said again. "Now!"

Layla did not think.

She bolted.

Ryder was right with her, snatching her coat and dragging her to the side. "Not that way," he said. "They have their perimeter covered."Come with me.

They ducked into the trees just as headlights approached them. Shouts rang out, but Ryder stayed silent, moving through the undergrowth with the accuracy of a soldier. His fingers were squeezing her wrist, but she hugged the file to her breast as if her life depended on it-and it did.

Behind them, more engines began to roar.

"They are going to follow," she explained.

"They are already following," Ryder stated. "But they will not catch us."

A sharp turn brought them down a hill covered with brambles and damp soil. Layla fell once, and her foot twisted painfully, but she did not cry. She could not afford to be weak just now.

Not with freedom just beyond the confines of the Ashford estate.

Not with the truth in her grasp.

Ryder stopped beside a low-profile black Jeep parked behind a thicket of trees. He yanked the passenger door open and shoved her inside.

"Hold on."

Layla barely had time to fasten her seatbelt before the vehicle accelerated, its tyres spraying mud as they sped down a service trail. The sound of gunfire echoed once or twice behind them, but Ryder remained still. His face was stone-cold, his jaw rigid as he pushed the engine to its limits.

Layla cuddled into her seat and held the bag. Her fingers were quivering, and her lip was bleeding- she must have bitten it- but all she felt was the crushing knowledge.

She was no longer present.

But it is not safe.

Not yet.

"Where are we going?" she said, breathless.

Ryder said, "Somewhere safe," without looking at her. "However, we need to trade cars before sunrise."Ashford has eyes everywhere."

"Why are you helping me?"

Ryder did not answer at first.

Then: "Because I know what my brother is capable of, and I understand what Ethan did to you."

Layla twirled quickly. "Do you know Damien?"

"He is my brother," Ryder said, eyes concentrated on the road. "He told me everything." The giver. The manipulation. "A contract."

Her throat tightened. "And Nova?"

"We are not sure yet," he explained. "If Damien's suspicions are right, we need to act swiftly." Ethan and Katherine could be plotting to make her disappear."

Layla's vision blurred with tears. "She is simply a child."

Ryder's jaw twitched. "Exactly why I am here."

They drove for hours, leaving Manhattan behind.

By daybreak, they were in a peaceful, foggy part of upstate New York. Ryder pulled into a secluded parking space behind a little cottage in the woods. The home seemed abandoned from the outside, yet the inside was surprisingly livable-spartan but pleasant.

Layla fell onto the ancient leather couch, her body aching and her adrenaline running low.

Ryder put a mug of warm tea in front of her.

"Drink, you need it."

She did. Slowly. The heat eased the cold on her chest.

"What now?" she asked. "Do we run forever?"

"No," Ryder said. "We made them pay."

Layla caught his attention.

There was something in his eyes that she had never seen in anybody else, including Damien.

Fire.

And rage.

Later that morning, Damien called.

Layla had barely slept, clutching the file in her arms like a shield. She replied with a croaky voice.

"We have the DNA findings," Damien said on the other end.

Layla sat up. "And?"

"Nova is not receiving any significant therapy," he said. "Her blood tests show no signs of the drugs listed in her records. Worse, her recent scans were false. Sedatives and stress are keeping the girl ill. "She is not terminal."

Layla felt the world tilt.

"She...is not dying?"

"No," Damien said kindly. "She never was."

Layla could not speak.

Damien continued. "Ethan lied. He structured the arrangement around a bogus illness. They used Nova's genuine childhood sickness, which had already been treated, and altered her symptoms to give the appearance of a recurrence."

Layla cried.

Her hands had tightened into fists.

"They have been poisoning her."

"Yes. In small doses. Just enough to keep her weak. But now that you have departed, they will panic.

Layla stood with her voice quivering. "Then we will expose them."

"We will," Damien said. "But we have to be intelligent. They will shame you. Frame yourself: "Or worse."

Ryder grabbed the phone from her.

"If you are serious," he said to Damien, "come see us tonight." We need to go public. News outlets. Medical board. "Federal charges."

"I am in," Damien said. "But be careful. Katherine is already telling a narrative. She said Layla had abducted Nova.

"What?" Layla muttered.

"She called the police around one hour ago. There is a warrant out, and they are attempting to make you the villain.

They met Damien that night in a rented safe house in Albany.

He handed Ryder a burner phone, a USB drive, and a huge folder with documents. "It is everything. Katherine made several errors with medical evidence, forgeries, and hospital video monitoring.

Layla looked through the photos.

One image showed Nova unconscious due to unnecessary IV infusions as Katherine stood by her bed with a syringe.

Layla's stomach turned. "That was an attempted murder."

"Exactly," Damien said. "Now is your moment."

Layla opened the suitcase and laid out her contract. The donor clause drew significant notice. Below is Ethan's handwritten promise.

"Without a donor, the contract is null and void," Ryder stated. "We can destroy their empire."

"Not simply smash it," Layla said, her tone stern. "I want to burn it."

The original breach went public the next day.

An anonymous tip led to the receipt of donor records by a prominent Manhattan journalist. The story grabbed morning headlines.

"Ashford Billionaire Under Fire: Donor Fraud Allegations Prompt Criminal Probe."

Within hours, the internet exploded.

Ethan released a statement claiming innocence.

Katherine held a press conference, grieving over "a mentally unstable lady" who "stole her ailing sister" and "fled with dangerous intent."

Layla witnessed it all from the cabin, her jaw hard and her stomach churning.

"She is lying," she mumbled.

"She is desperate," Ryder corrected. "Desperate people make mistakes."

That afternoon, an envelope arrived at the cottage. There is no return address.

Layla opened it hesitantly.

The inside had a single image.

Nova.

In a hospital bed.

Connected to machinery.

Her eyes closed, and her face became pale.

Under it, a note written in red ink:

"Come home, or she will die."

Layla discarded the photograph. Her knees buckled.

Ryder caught her. "What is this?"

She raised the photo, her voice cracking. "They have her. They are going to kill her."

Ryder looked at the photo with a melancholy expression. "This is a set. Look at the monitor-flat, yet she is breathing."This is a threat, not proof."

"She is still in danger," Layla stated. "We have to get her out."

"Do not go into the flames," Damien urged. "That is what they want. You walk in and disappear."

Layla glanced at the photo, her heart breaking.

"Then we made our own trap."

Layla made a move that night.

She posted a raw, unfiltered video on social media.

She stood in front of a blank wall, without makeup or illumination, just the truth.

"My name is Layla Monroe," she explained. "And I was duped into marrying Ethan Ashford under the premise that my terminally ill sister would receive a donor transplant. That donor never existed. My sister is not terminal; she is being poisoned. "And I can prove it."

She held up the paperwork. The DNA report. The fraudulent scans. The contract.

"If something happens to Nova or me, this information is sent immediately to federal prosecutors. "I am no longer afraid."I will not be silent."

She ended the video with three words:

"I am coming back."

Within hours, the video became viral.

#JusticeForNova has become a global hot topic.

The press flocked to the Ashford estate. Protesters gathered. Medical investigators began a formal inquiry.

Behind the curtain, Ethan and Katherine are afraid.

Ryder intercepted a call from one of Ethan's bodyguards.

"Ethan is moving Nova to a private facility," he told Layla. "Tonight, he is terrified."

"Then we intercept him."

The strategy was dangerous.

Ryder and Damien would accompany the ambulance from Ashford Medical.

Layla would pretend to be a volunteer assistant and sneak inside before the transfer was made.

She dressed in scrubs, clipped on a fake ID, and waited near the loading dock.

At 3:17 a.m., the ambulance drove out.

Ryder's fictitious automobile served as her cover.

The approach was obvious: north to the Catskills' private family clinic.

They just had one shot.

Damien caused a distraction by simulating a vehicle collision at a two-lane crossroads halfway through.

The ambulance slowed.

Ryder obstructed the rear.

Layla moved.

She burst through the rear doors.

Nova was slow, colourless, and still alive.

"Layla?" she murmured.

"I got you," Layla murmured gently while unhooking her IVs. "I am taking you home."

But before she could lift her-

The driver turned and drew a handgun.

It was Ethan.

"I knew you would come," he said in a frigid tone. "Now you will die with her.