[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":10},["ShallowReactive",2],{"viewer-data-2603220ECDF1-649":3},{"id":4,"number":5,"name":6,"content":7,"isLocked":8,"price":9,"hasRead":8},649,91,"Chapter 91: The Helicopter at 2:00 AM","\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman Griffin’s memory was razor-sharp; he pegged Emma Fox the moment he saw her.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He had called Violette Ellis on his way to Riverwood, but her phone was off. He’d sent her a text, too—a curt command to call him back the second she was free.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">*Roman: It’s pouring. Tell me when you’re done.*\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette hadn’t replied. When he tried again, the line remained dead.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">For the duration of the drive, Roman had sat in an agonizing, coiled silence. He wasn’t a man prone to hysterics, nor did he enjoy the indignity of scaring himself, but a cold, heavy dread had settled in his gut. He didn't even bother dropping off Dax Murphy in town; he told him to hail a cab and made a beeline for the resort.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Seeing Emma sitting there in her flip-flops and oversized lounge shorts, the tension in Roman’s shoulders finally snapped.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He set his phone aside and strode toward her, his presence looming.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Ms. Fox,\" he said. His voice was like grinding stone, steady and composed. \"Could you tell me if my wife is in her room?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">***\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Upstairs, Violette saw the call come in. She yanked the charging cable loose and stepped to the side to take it.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets, a relentless deluge that showed no signs of stopping. She braced a hand against the windowsill and swiped to answer.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Hello?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"How are you?\" Roman cut straight to the point. \"Where are you?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">His voice sounded normal, but the cadence was clipped, hurried.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She was miles away from Deepwater, and she didn't want him worrying for nothing. She forced a light, airy laugh. \"I’m fine, of course. It’s been a crazy day; I didn't even notice my battery was dead. I was just about to text you back when you called.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She kept her smile soft, her eyes crinkling at the corners, radiating a rehearsed gentleness.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake Pierce, who had been sitting a few feet away, stiffened. He looked like a dog catching the scent of danger, his posture snapping upright.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette, her back to him, tapped her fingers rhythmically against the windowsill.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"What's wrong? Is there an emergency?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">There was a pause on the other end of the line. The soft, rhythmic sound of Roman’s breathing was swallowed by the roar of the rain, leaving only the static-like hum of the storm between them.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Ten seconds bled by.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Finally, Roman said her name, his tone stripped of all levity. \"Violette, did you really think you could keep something this big from me?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette’s smile faltered. She tried to deflect. \"...It’s not that big of a deal.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"A landslide. You’re trapped on a mountain, and you weren't going to say a single word?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">His voice was cold now—sharp enough to cut.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette could practically see him sitting there, his face a mask of iron-willed gravity. His natural air of command was suffocating, even through a screen.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"...\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She couldn't find the words.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">After a few breaths, she gauged that his temper had leveled out—he wasn't the type to scream into a phone—and chose her words carefully. \"I’m at the water treatment plant on the mountain. I’m perfectly safe. They reinforced the land when they built this place; it’s rock solid.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She softened her voice, aiming for soothing. \"It's fine, really.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Behind her, someone knocked over a water basin, the clatter echoing through the small room.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette glanced at the window reflection and saw Blake cleaning up the mess. He was hunched over, nothing but a dark, messy mop of hair visible.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette pressed on. \"You always have your ear to the ground anyway. I thought I’d just spare you the panic and tell you when I got home.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She was trying to lighten the mood. It worked—mostly.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Stay exactly where you are,\" Roman said. \"I’m coming to get you.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">It was raining cats and dogs, and the roads were severed. She couldn't help but interject. \"It’s pouring, Roman. The roads are cut off. You’re coming from Deepwater—\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"I'm at the foot of the mountain,\" Roman interrupted. He repeated, \"I'm coming to get you.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Since they’d married, Roman had always been the type to consult her on every decision, rarely acting with such unilateral force. But Violette knew the man. At his core, he was immovable.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Once he said it, he meant it. No amount of protest would stop him.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette figured that perhaps Mr. Griffin’s true superpower wasn't just his intellect, but his ability to throw obscene amounts of money at a problem to force the road crews to work faster. He was a man of calculated risks, unlike the impulsive, reckless spirit that defined Blake. She didn't need to remind him of that.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">After the call ended, Roman kept checking in, sending a text every fifteen minutes.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Knowing his anxiety, she started recording short, impromptu video clips to show him she was okay. In one, she was curled up on the sofa looking half-asleep; in another, she caught Tessa Turner complaining about her injured leg. She capped every clip with a single word: *Peace.*\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman was a man who required a response for everything, especially in a crisis.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Around 2:30 AM, a monstrous roar erupted outside. Violette thought the storm had intensified and stood up to check the window.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The three of them had been huddled in this small conference room all night. Tessa was passed out on the long sofa. Blake sat alone by the coffee table, having dragged his own chair in from the hall because he found the mahogany furniture too stiff. Violette had the luxury of a worn-out, rolling office chair.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">As she stood, the wheels groaned against the floor.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake wasn't sleeping. He dropped his arms from his chest the moment he heard her, rising to follow her.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">A window was indeed cracked, the wind whistling through a rusted gap. Violette tried to shove it shut, but the frame wouldn't budge. Blake leaned in, using his raw strength to force it closed with a sharp *clack*.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette muttered a thank you and stepped back.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake didn't move, watching her closely. As she nearly collided with him, she froze, staring past him at a point in the distance.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"What is that?\" Violette asked. \"There’s a light... hovering in the sky.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Her night vision had always been terrible.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake took one look and reached his conclusion. It wasn't a light; it was a helicopter.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The roar grew deafening, becoming a concrete silhouette against the sky. Violette finally identified the rhythmic thrum of the rotors.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"A helicopter?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Yeah,\" Blake said, his eyes glued to the glass.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The security guard downstairs, jolted awake, stumbled out into the rain in his poncho. When he saw the behemoth hovering in the sky, he stumbled backward, blinked, and stumbled again—a perfect pantomime of a man convinced he was hallucinating.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The helicopter hovered for a heartbeat before touching down in the center of the courtyard.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The roar of the propellers died down, and the rain lashing against the windows slowed to a patter. The world fell into a sudden, eerie silence.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette leaned out the second-story window. She caught a glimpse of an arm draped over the edge of the hatch. The moment the door swung open, the man leaped out, ignoring the way the stagnant water splashed up to ruin his tailored dress slacks. He didn't care. He pressed his phone to his ear and marched forward.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">His hair was windblown and messy. Under the harsh white glare of the porch light, his face was unmistakable.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette’s pulse skipped.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">It was Roman.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She knew he was coming, but she had assumed he meant he would wait for the roads to be cleared in the morning. She never imagined he would pull strings to fly a chopper straight into the mountains at two in the morning.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Her phone buzzed in her hand.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She swiped to answer. \"Roman.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The man below looked up, waving a hand at her in the window. \"Come down.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He said, \"I'm here to take you home.\"\u003C/p>",false,0,1774272920512]