Chapter 9: Phantom Pains
That night, the cottage felt less like a sanctuary and more like a wooden cage. Elena meticulously checked the locks, sliding deadbolts she hadn’t touched in months. She pulled up the floorboard beneath her bed, her fingers brushing against the cold steel of a Glock 19 she had sworn never to load again.
Her mind raced through the possibilities. Julian was in a maximum-security cell in Florence, Colorado. His mother, Eleanor, was practically under house arrest, financially ruined. Who was left? The Thorne empire was vast, but she had severed the head of the snake.
Unless, of course, the snake was a hydra. She spent the night staring at the door, the phantom pain in her scarred shoulder throbbing with a rhythmic, agonizing intensity. The war wasn't over. It had simply entered a new theater.
