If you want to be Silas’s wife, you take care of his mess, or you get back on the plane to Ohio.
The roar of the speedboat engine was deafening, battling against the rising fury of the squall. Rain lashed down, blinding and cold, as Marco expertly navigated the treacherous waves.
Silas gripped the side of the boat, his knuckles white. The coastline was a blurry line of lights through the driving rain.
“We’re almost there!” Marco yelled over the wind. “But the weather’s getting worse!”
As they neared the Topanga Canyon shoreline, the storm intensified. Lightning cracked directly overhead, illuminating the entire sky in a blinding flash. Thunder immediately followed, shaking the very air.
A violent gust of wind tore at the boat, sending spray high into the air.
“This is as close as I can get, boss!” Marco shouted. “The swells are too big! The storm’s hitting the canyon hard!”
Silas saw it then: the dark, imposing silhouette of the canyon, shrouded in curtains of rain. He could make out the faint glow of the estate, a distant, fragile beacon.
“Drop me here,” Silas commanded. “Thank you, Marco. You saved my life.”
He leaped from the boat as it slowed, hitting the cold, churning water with a splash. He struck out for the shore, his powerful swimmer’s stroke battling the waves. The rain felt like icy needles on his skin.
He dragged himself onto the muddy beach, gasping for air. The canyon roads, he knew, would be steep and winding. But he had to get to Norah and the children.
He began to scramble up the rain-soaked hillside, every step a struggle against the slick mud and loose rocks. The lightning flashes were constant now, illuminating trees swaying wildly, their branches straining against the wind.
Suddenly, a deafening crack echoed through the canyon. A massive oak tree, unable to withstand the wind, toppled across the narrow access road leading to the estate. It brought a cascade of smaller trees and rocks with it.
The road was completely blocked. Impassable.
At the same time, miles away on a different, unpaved back trail, a different drama was unfolding. Victoria Finch, her face grim, was behind the wheel of a heavy-duty SUV, her lead security guard, Frank, beside her.
They were driving up a rarely used, rocky track, a shortcut Victoria knew intimately. The wipers struggled against the deluge.
“We should have taken the main road,” Frank grumbled, gripping his seatbelt.
“The main road is compromised, Frank,” Victoria snapped, her eyes fixed on the treacherous path ahead. “That insane woman has caused enough trouble. This ends tonight.”
In her briefcase, tucked securely on the back seat, were eviction papers. Not for Norah, but for the children. Papers that would legally remove them from the property and place them into a “secure, undisclosed facility” under Finch Entertainment’s sole guardianship.
A flash of lightning illuminated a stretch of the back trail ahead of them. More rocks, more mud, began to slide down the steep incline. The storm was turning the canyon into a deathtrap.
Victoria slammed on the brakes, the SUV skidding sideways. Up ahead, a wall of mud and fallen trees now completely blocked their path. The back trail was sealed.
She was trapped, just a few hundred yards from the estate, but unable to reach it. Silas, meanwhile, was fighting his way through the mud on foot, utterly unaware of Victoria’s stalled approach.
The storm raged, sealing off the world outside the estate, trapping everyone within its violent embrace.
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