Max Childs sat on the cot in his cramped quarters, the weight of Curtis Hubbard’s words pressing heavily on his chest. He had always been the protector in the family, the one Erica turned to when things got tough. The thought of anyone harming her filled him with a rage he hadn’t felt in years. As he packed his gear, his mind raced with plans and contingencies. He had five days to turn the tables on Brad Perry and his influential family.
The flight back to the States was a haze of paperwork and restless thoughts. Max couldn’t shake the image of Erica from his mind, lying in a hospital bed, her spirit temporarily broken. He remembered the day she married Brad, how happy she seemed, how hopeful her future looked. To think that her life had been shattered by someone who vowed to cherish her made him clench his fists in anger.
Upon landing, Max went straight to the hospital. The sterile smell of antiseptic hung in the air as he navigated the corridors. When he finally reached Erica’s room, he paused, gathering his emotions before pushing the door open. Erica lay there, bruises stark against her pale skin. Despite the damage, her eyes still held a spark of that defiant energy Max knew so well.
