Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 248

Chapter 248 Escaping Down The Mountain Road

The rain hits my bare skin like tiny needles. Red laser dols dance across my chest. They paint Tristan in crimson dots. Twelve men with assault rifles stand

between us and the dark mountain road.

Sterling stands in the center. He holds his black umbrella. He wears a smug smile. He thinks he holds the winning hand. He thinks he cornered the prey.

“I gave you an order, Minerva, Sterling says. He lowers the megaphone. His voice carries over the rain. “Drop the guns. Hand over the data drive. I might let your husband live long enough to stand trial.”

I do not drop my weapon. I grip the cold metal. I keep the barrel aimed at Sterling’s chest.

Tristan stands beside me. He shifts his weight. I feel the brush of his arm against mine. A silent communication. A shared pulse. We do not surrender. We do not beg.

“You flew across an ocean to catch me, I call out. “You left your jurisdiction. You possess zero authority here.”

‘I possess men with guns,” Sterling counters. He steps out of the floodlight glare. “The Swiss authorities look the other way for the right price. My backers own this mountain. You stole property. I am reclaiming it.”

“You mean the bribe ledger,” I say. I want his men to hear the truth. “The list of every politician and judge you bought with Whitmore money.”

Sterling loses his smile. His jaw tightens.

“Kill the husband, Sterling orders. “Kneecap the woman.”

Tristan moves before the first guard pulls a trigger. He does not aim at the men, He raises his submachine gun. He fires a steady burst into the massive halogen floodlights above the loading dock.

Glass shatters. Sparks rain down on the wet asphalt. Plunging the dock into total darkness.

Gunfire erupts. The deafening roar of automatic weapons echoes against the stone walls of the chateau. Bullets chip the concrete at my feet.

Tristan grabs my hand. He yanks me behind a stack of steel catering barrels. The metal rings like a bell as rounds strike the other side.

“The armored transport,” Tristan yells over the noise. ‘It is running. It possesses reinforced glass.”

“Twelve men guard it,’ I say.

‘I only see targets,’ he replies.

He pulls a heavy flashbang grenade from his tactical vest. He carried it from the lockbox in the bunker. He pulls the pin. He throws the canister over the steel barrels.

A blinding flash turns the night into white fire. A concussive boom rattles my teeth. The guards scream. They clutch their eyes.

The first SUV closes the distance. The driver rams our rear bumper. The impact jolts my spine. The heavy transport shudders but stays on the road.

“Take the wheel, Tristan orders.

I unbuckle my seatbelt. I.lean across the center console. I grab the bottom of the steering wheel.

Tristan rolls his window down. The freezing wind and rain whip into the cabin. He leans out the window. He braces his elbows on the metal frame. He aims the submachine gun back at the pursuit vehicle.

He fires a sustained burst. The flashes light up his face. He targets the engine block of the SUV.

The grille of the SUV shatters. Steam and smoke erupt from the hood. The driver loses control. The vehicle swerves. It crashes into the rock wall, Metal crunches. The SUV flips onto its roof, blocking one lane of the road.

“One down, Tristan says. He drops back into the driver seat. He takes the wheel from my hands. He rolls the window up.

The second and third SUVS navigate around the burning wreck. They continue the chase.

“They flank us,” I note.

One SUV pulls up on my side. The passenger window rolls down. A guard leans out with an assault rifle. He aims at the spiderweb cracks in my window te intends to exploit the weakened glass.