Chapter 6 - The Counterstrike
The victory was sweet, but the war was far from over. By Sunday morning, the encrypted drive was in the hands of Robert, the Ford family’s brilliant attorney, who immediately initiated an emergency, closed-door meeting with the federal prosecutor and the lead FBI agent handling the case.
With the undeniable evidence of Victoria Vance’s systemic fraud, money laundering, and illegal arms trafficking presented to them, the federal authorities realized they had been used as pawns in a personal vendetta. The warrant for Jasmine’s arrest was quietly rescinded, and the investigation shifted its focus entirely onto Vance Enterprises.
However, Victoria was not a woman to go down quietly.
Knowing that her legal empire was crumbling, she chose to strike where it would hurt Jackson the most.
It was late Sunday afternoon. At the Chestnut Hill estate, Jasmine was in the kitchen preparing dinner, the soothing warmth of the house a stark contrast to the chaos of the previous night. She looked out the window, expecting to see Harper playing in the garden with Barnaby.
The garden was empty.
The stuffed rabbit Harper always carried lay abandoned on the grass, its white fur stained with dirt.
Jasmine’s heart plummeted. She dropped the glass bowl she was holding, the sound of it shattering on the tile floor echoing like a gunshot through the quiet house.
"Jackson!" Jasmine screamed, her voice cracking with pure terror.
Jackson ran into the kitchen, his instincts instantly on high alert. He saw the shattered glass, then looked out the window at the empty garden and the lonely stuffed toy on the grass. His face drained of all color, replaced by an expression of such cold, absolute savagery that it would have terrified anyone else.
His phone rang. The caller ID was restricted.
Jackson answered it, his voice a low, vibrating whisper of death. "If you touch her, Victoria, there is no corner of this earth where you can hide from me."
Victoria’s laughter came through the line, manic and desperate. "I have nothing left to lose now, Jackson! You destroyed my family, my company, my life! Your little girl is currently sitting in a very cold, very dark shipping container at the Philadelphia port. If you want her back, you will come to Berth 42 alone. No cops. No security. Just you."
"I’m coming," Jackson said simply.
"And Jackson?" Victoria added, her voice dripping with venom. "Bring the drive. If I see anyone else, I will drop the container into the harbor with your daughter inside it. You have thirty minutes."
The line went dead.
Jasmine collapsed against Jackson’s chest, sobbing hysterically. "My baby... oh my god, Jackson, she has Harper!"
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Jackson held her tight, his hand cupping the back of her head, his eyes burning with a terrifying, ancient fire. He was no longer the reformed king. He was the protector of his pack, and the viper was about to strike with fatal force.
"Listen to me, Jasmine," Jackson said, his voice incredibly calm, a calm that was far more terrifying than anger. "I am going to get our daughter. I will bring her home. I swear this to you on my life, on my soul, on everything we have built."
