Page 54 of Playing with Fire

Before I could respond, my phone rang. Mom. I answered immediately.

"We need to go. Now." Her voice was controlled, but urgent. "Your father's in the hospital. There was an explosion—his car. They've taken him to Grant Memorial."

Ice spread through my veins as I looked back at the text message. "Was there a note? A message?"

"How did you know? Someone sent Nikita an anonymous text right after it happened. 'A father for a father.'"

My entire world narrowed to that text message and my mother's voice.

"I'll meet you at the car in two minutes," I said, already moving. Leo abandoned his project instantly, following on my heels without question or hesitation.

"What's happening?" Misha asked, rising from his pile of fabric scraps.

"Dad's been hurt. Phoenix went after him." I didn't slow down to see his reaction. "Tell the others. We're leaving."

Mom was already in the foyer when we arrived, her face a familiar mask of controlled rage. War appeared moments later, medical bag in hand.

"How bad?" he asked, all business.

"Critical but stable," Mom replied. "Burns over twenty percent of his body. Possible internal bleeding."

War nodded once and passed the keys to River, who said, "I'll drive."

"I'll call Shepherd," War said, phone already pressed to his ear. "He has hospital privileges at Grant."

The efficiency with which my family mobilized in crisis never failed to impress me. Within minutes, everyone had assembled in the foyer, faces grim but determined. Even Xion had decided to come, which spoke volumes since he and Yuri weren't close.

I checked my own weapon, confirming the magazine was full. If Phoenix had targeted Dad, they could be waiting at the hospital to finish the job.

"Let's move," I said, heading for the door.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

Maxime stood in the entrance, his lean frame blocking our path. Where he'd materialized from, I couldn't tell, but his posture communicated everything about his intentions. Four security personnel positioned themselves strategically around the foyer, their dark tactical gear a stark contrast to the luxury surrounding us.

"Step aside, Maxime," Mom's voice carried deadly calm.

"I cannot do that, Mrs. Laskin." His voice remained perfectly modulated, professional to the core. "Mr. Etremont's instructions were explicit. Your safety is to be ensured by any means necessary."

"My husband is in the hospital," Mom replied, taking a step forward. "Possibly dying."

Maxime's expression flickered with what might have been genuine sympathy, but his position remained unchanged. "I am aware of the situation and deeply regret the circumstances. Mr. Etremont has already dispatched his personal medical team to assist Mr. Laskin."

"Not good enough," I growled, moving to flank my mother. "We're leaving. Now."

"That would compromise the security protocols established for your protection." Maxime's gaze shifted to the guards, who subtly adjusted their positions. "I cannot allow it."

Leo's hand settled on my arm. A silent warning.

"You're going to stop us by force?" War asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

Maxime didn't flinch. "If necessary."

"This is why I never trusted Algerone," Xion muttered, his body tensing like a coiled spring.

"Mr. Etremont anticipated your reaction," Maxime continued smoothly. "He has instructed me to inform you that the hospital has been secured, and Mr. Laskin is receiving the best possible care. Live video feed can be arranged if you wish to see him."

"A video feed?" Mom's voice dropped dangerously low. "Someone is trying to murder my husband!"

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