Chapter 14: The Rescue Gamble

The night had swallowed the city whole. Dim street lights flickered, casting eerie shadows on the sidewalks as Charlotte sat silently in the cab, her heart pounding in rhythm with the tires against the road. The plan was risky, but it was the only chance she had to save Charles. She knew she couldn’t walk into this blind. Every step had to be calculated. She had to think before acting. Think. Stay calm.

As the cab pulled up to Mr. Lucas’s house, she took a deep breath, rehearsing her next move in her mind. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her phone. Emma was her first thought—loyal, reliable—but she couldn’t drag her into this. This isn't her fight, she told herself, staring at her phone before slipping it back into her bag. 

No, this was her battle now. And Charles’ life was on the line.

She quickly dialed Mr. Lucas instead. His steady voice answered almost immediately. "Hello?"

“Mr. Lucas,” Charlotte began, disguising her voice, “this is Mason. I need to see you. It’s about Charles. He’s in trouble.”

There was a long pause on the other end. “Trouble?” Mr. Lucas’s voice sounded surprised. “What kind of trouble?”

“I’ll explain when I see you,” she said, glancing out the window. “It’s urgent.”

“Alright, come to my house,” he replied, sounding weary but concerned. Charlotte thanked him and quickly gave the cab driver the new address.

When she arrived, Mr. Lucas opened the door almost instantly, a furrow forming ionhis brow as he stepped aside to let her in. “What’s going on, Mason?” he asked, though his eyes scanned her face suspiciously.

“Sir, it’s about Charles,” Charlotte said, her voice trembling slightly. “He’s been taken by Maxwell. They’re trying to use him to take over Goldberg Enterprises. Maxwell’s set up a trap, and Charles is running out of time. I need your help.”

Mr. Lucas’s expression darkened. “Maxwell? That man’s been after the company for years. What do they want with Charles?”

“They’re using him as leverage,” she explained. “I have a USB stick that Maxwell believes holds crucial information. They want me to deliver it to the warehouse tonight, or they’ll kill Charles.”

Mr. Lucas rubbed his chin thoughtfully, pacing the room. “And you’re going to give it to them?”

Charlotte shook her head. “No. The stick’s a fake. I need to stall them long enough for you to alert the police and get them to the warehouse.”

His eyes met hers, sharp and focused. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Charlotte. Are you sure you can handle this?”

She swallowed hard but nodded. “I have to. Charles is counting on me.”

After a moment, Mr. Lucas gave her a firm nod. “Alright. I’ll call the authorities and make sure they’re ready. But Charlotte, be careful. Maxwell’s men won’t hesitate to kill if they sense something’s wrong.”

She left his house with a renewed sense of purpose, the plan solid in her mind. The cab ride to the warehouse felt like an eternity, each second weighed down by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. She prayed silently that everything would go according to plan. Charles, hold on. I'm coming.

---

The Warehouse: A Dangerous Encounter

The old, crumbling building loomed before her like a forgotten beast, its rusted gates hanging loosely, creaking as the wind howled through the desolate street. It was the kind of place where hope seemed to vanish, swallowed by the decay and darkness that surrounded it.

This is it.

Charlotte stepped out of the cab, her pulse quickening as she approached the entrance. Every nerve in her body screamed to turn back, to run, but she forced herself to move forward. She had a job to do.

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit interior. Maxwell stood at the center, surrounded by his men, their faces cold and unfeeling. His eyes gleamed as he spotted her.

“Well, well,” he said, clapping slowly, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. I didn’t think you’d show.”

Charlotte held her ground, her chin lifted. “Where’s Charles?” she demanded, her voice steady despite the knot of fear tightening in her stomach.

Maxwell chuckled, waving toward the far corner of the room. “Right there.”

Her heart nearly stopped as she saw Charles slumped in a chair, his hands tied behind his back, his face bruised and bloody. His eyes, however, flickered with defiance as they locked on hers. He was alive, but barely.

“I’ve brought the USB stick,” she said, keeping her tone businesslike, even though her mind was screaming to run to Charles. “Now let him go.”

Maxwell’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, ah, not so fast,” he said, motioning for one of his men to approach her. The man, tall and intimidating, extended his hand for the USB.

Charlotte hesitated, her fingers tightening around the fake stick. She couldn’t hand it over yet, not until she had more time. She had to stall.

“Before we proceed,” she said, turning her attention back to Maxwell, “why don’t we talk about your real plan? You don’t just want Goldberg Enterprises. You want to bring down Charles’s father, don’t you?”

Maxwell’s expression faltered, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” he sneered. “I don’t just want to bring down Goldberg. I want to erase his legacy. And Charles is the perfect pawn to make it happen.”

“Too bad you won’t get the chance,” a voice interrupted from the shadows.

Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. Mr. Lucas?

Suddenly, a commotion erupted as Mr. Lucas, accompanied by several armed officers, stormed into the warehouse. Chaos exploded around them as Maxwell’s men scrambled to draw their weapons, but the police were faster. In moments, Maxwell was on the ground, his hands behind his back as he was handcuffed.

But the relief was short-lived.

Out of nowhere, one of Maxwell’s men lunged toward Charles, a knife gleaming in his hand. Without thinking, Charlotte rushed forward, grabbing a nearby metal pipe and swinging it with all her might. The crack of the impact echoed through the warehouse as the man dropped to the ground, unconscious.

Charlotte panted, her heart racing as she stood over the fallen man. She turned to Charles, her eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

Charles blinked, groggy but alive. “You... saved me,” he mumbled, clearly struggling to stay conscious.

Before she could respond, Maxwell, still on his knees, laughed darkly. “You think this is over? You think you’ve won? You have no idea what’s coming.”

---

As the police dragged Maxwell to his feet, his eyes gleamed with something sinister, something that sent a chill down Charlotte’s spine. 

Then, almost too quietly, Maxwell whispered, “Checkmate.”

Before she could ask what he meant, an explosion rocked the warehouse, the blast sending her and Charles crashing to the floor. The world around them blurred into cha

os, fire and debris raining down as sirens wailed in the distance.

Everything went dark.