The Heir's Revenge

Retaliation in Motion

A painful throb pulsed through his skull as he slowly regained consciousness, the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth. His vision blurred, only fragments of the world around him coming into focus, shattered glass, a crumpled dashboard, and the unmistakable acrid stench of gunfire.

He blinked rapidly, his mind catching up with the chaos that had just unfolded.

They had been ambushed. The attack had come out of nowhere, swift and brutal. Victoria was beside him, slumped over the steering wheel, blood trickling from a gash on her forehead.

“Victoria,” Ethan croaked, his throat dry and hoarse. He reached out, shaking her shoulder, panic seeping into his chest.

She groaned and stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

“I’m… fine,” she muttered, though her movements were slow and pained.

Ethan scanned the area outside the car. They were still in the heart of the city, but the street was eerily deserted. No witnesses. Whoever had orchestrated the attack had ensured that they were alone.

“Move,” Victoria hissed through clenched teeth, her voice laced with urgency. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. He fumbled with his seatbelt and kicked the door open, stumbling out of the SUV.

His legs wobbled as he stood, his muscles still stiff from the crash. He could hear footsteps, heavy, deliberate, echoing from behind the wreck.

The hitmen were coming to finish the job.

Victoria staggered out of the car, clutching her side.

“We don’t have time,” she panted. “They’ll be here any second.”

Ethan grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a narrow alley between two buildings. The footsteps grew louder, closer, but the shadows swallowed them as they ducked into the alley, narrowly avoiding detection.

Pressing their backs against the cold, damp wall, they waited, barely daring to breathe.

Two men stepped into view, their guns drawn and eyes scanning the area. One of them kicked the car door with a frustrated grunt.

“They’re not here.”

“They couldn’t have gotten far,” the other growled. “Search the alleyways. Boss wants them dead.”

The men split up, one heading toward the alley where Ethan and Victoria were hiding. Ethan’s heart pounded in his chest as the sound of the man’s boots grew closer, his shadow stretching ominously along the ground.

Victoria’s hand found Ethan’s, her grip tight. Her eyes met his, and for a brief moment, there was an understanding between them, if they didn’t act now, they were dead.

As the hitman approached, Ethan sprang into action. He lunged from the shadows, grabbing the man’s wrist and twisting it sharply, forcing him to drop the gun.

Before the man could react, Ethan drove his elbow into the hitman’s throat, sending him to the ground gasping for air.

“Let’s go,” Victoria urged, her voice breathless but steady.

They moved quickly, weaving through the maze of backstreets until the sound of pursuit faded entirely. Only when they were certain they had shaken their attackers did they stop to catch their breath.

Ethan leaned against a wall, his chest heaving.

“That wasn’t random,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “They knew exactly where to find us.”

Victoria nodded, wiping sweat from her brow.

“It’s worse than that, Ethan. This is only the beginning.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication. The attack had been more than just a failed assassination attempt. It was a warning, a retaliation.

And it had Sarah and her family written all over it.

Back at the Forrester estate, the atmosphere was thick with tension.

Alexander Forrester paced the length of his office, his expression stormy. Across the room, Sarah sat rigidly in an armchair, her fingers tightly clutching a glass of whiskey that she hadn’t touched.

“They failed,” Alexander growled, slamming a fist against the desk. “That bastard is still alive, and now he knows we’re coming for him.”

Sarah flinched at her father’s outburst but said nothing. She knew better than to interrupt when Alexander was in one of his rages.

Across from them, Sarah’s brother, Michael, leaned against the wall, a smug grin on his face.

“You should have let me handle it, Father. You know I could have finished this quietly.”

Alexander shot him a sharp glare.

“You’re too reckless, Michael. This isn’t some petty street deal. We’re dealing with Ethan Langston, he’s not the man we thought he was.”

Michael shrugged.

“He’s still just one man. One well-placed bullet, and he’s out of our lives for good.”

Sarah finally spoke, her voice quiet but firm.

“Ethan won’t stop. He’s too smart for that. He’ll keep coming at us, digging until he exposes everything.”

Alexander’s jaw tightened.

“Not if we bury him first.”

Sarah set the glass down, her hands trembling.

“There’s another way,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We don’t have to kill him.”

Alexander paused, his eyes narrowing at her.

“What are you suggesting?”

Sarah met his gaze, her heart pounding.

“Ethan’s obsessed with revenge. But if we can hit him where it hurts, if we can take away everything he cares about, he’ll be too distracted to come after us. He’ll be broken.”

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” Michael asked, his tone dripping with skepticism.

“We start by cutting off his connections,” Sarah said. “His allies, his financial backers, anyone who’s helping him build his empire. We make sure they see him as a liability, not an asset.”

Michael snorted.

“That’ll take time. And Ethan doesn’t strike me as the patient type.”

Sarah’s gaze hardened.

“He’s resourceful, but he’s still human. If we hit him fast, hit him hard, he won’t have time to react.”

Alexander considered her words, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his chin. Finally, he nodded.

“Do it. But be careful, Sarah. One wrong move, and Ethan will know we’re behind it.”

Sarah nodded. She was ready to make Ethan pay for humiliating her.

Ethan and Victoria had made it to a safe house on the outskirts of the city. The building was old, dilapidated, but it was off the grid, far from the reach of the Forresters’ influence.

They sat in the dimly lit living room, a makeshift map of the city sprawled across the table, marked with pins and lines connecting key players in the Forrester family’s vast network.

“We need to move quickly,” Victoria said, her voice tight with determination. “They won’t stop coming for you, Ethan.”

Ethan nodded, though his thoughts were elsewhere. Sarah's family might have been pulling the strings, but Sarah, she had always been the wildcard. He had to bring her down before she retaliated again.

As they planned their next move, Ethan’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, his pulse quickening. It was an anonymous message, but the contents made his blood run cold.

_“You think you’re untouchable. But everyone has a weakness. Even you.”_

Attached to the message was a photo, a picture of his childhood home and his foster family, the one place he had thought was safe, untouched by the chaos of his current life. But the message was clear: the Forresters had found it. They were coming for more than just him now.