Chapter 6 - The Bathroom Siege
The splintering sound of the wooden door frame cracking under Owen’s shoulder sent a fresh wave of panic ripping through my veins. The lock held for one more agonizing second before the latch gave way with a sharp metallic snap, and the door swung violently inward, slamming against the tiled wall.
"Clara, stop running! You're only making this ten times worse for yourself!" Owen’s voice echoed through the small, sterile bathroom, laced with venom and adrenaline.
I stood trapped against the far wall beside the gleaming porcelain bathtub, my heavy lace wedding dress pooling around my bare feet like sea foam. I held my phone tightly in my palm, the speaker still broadcasting my father’s furious voice as he sprinted through the hotel corridors downstairs.
"I'm coming through the third-floor service corridor now!" my father shouted over the line, his breathing heavy and ragged. "Marcus has campus security with him! Just hold out for thirty more seconds!"
Owen stepped into the bathroom, his tuxedo jacket rumpled, his jaw red where my beaded purse had struck him. His eyes were wild, stripped of all the charming pretense he had worn for the past twenty-four months. He took a slow, deliberate step toward me, his hand outstretched.
"Hand over the phone, Clara," Owen ordered, his voice dangerously low. "You’ve caused enough damage for one lifetime. Give it to me, or I swear I will make sure your father's firm is dismantled piece by piece before the sun sets."
"You're a monster," I spat, my voice shaking with a mixture of terror and white-hot rage. "Everything we built, every memory... it was all just a transaction to you."
"Business is business, sweetheart," Evelyn’s voice chimed in coldly as she hovered just outside the bathroom doorway, her arms crossed over her maroon dress. "Now stop being childish and give him the device."
Instead of complying, I gripped the phone tighter, raised my arm, and threw the device directly past Owen’s head into the glass shower enclosure. The screen shattered against the porcelain tiles, cutting off the call with a loud, static-filled screech.
Owen cursed loudly and lunged forward, grabbing my wrists with a brutal grip that instantly bruised my skin. I cried out, struggling against his superior strength, kicking and twisting as he tried to drag me out of the bathroom.
"Let me go!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the tile walls.
Suddenly, a loud, collective commotion echoed from the main hallway outside the suite. Shouting voices, heavy footsteps, and the unmistakable sound of security radios blaring filled the air.
"Arthur Sterling! Federal marshals! Open this door immediately!" my father’s booming voice thundered through the entire suite.
Owen froze, his grip on my wrists loosening for a fraction of a second as absolute horror crossed his face. Evelyn spun around toward the hallway, her mouth dropping open in utter disbelief.
"They're here," I whispered triumphantly, finding a sudden surge of strength.
May you like
Before Owen could react, the heavy oak door of the suite crashed inward with an earth-shattering bang, and uniform-clad security guards swarmed into the room, followed closely by my father and a tall man in a sharp charcoal suit holding a federal badge.
---
