Chapter 4 - A DANGEROUS DISCOVERY
The rain lashed against the French windows of Ronan’s private library in Blackwood Estate. Spread across the antique mahogany table were the original blueprint patents for Lancaster Bio-Tech—a company Ivy's father had poured his life into before its catastrophic collapse.
"Look at the serial numbers on these chemical patents," Ivy whispered, tracing her fingers over the faded blue ink. "These are the exact molecular compounds that Hail Pharmaceuticals used to launch their multi-billion-dollar cancer therapy line four years ago."
"Julian Hail didn't just sabotage your father's business," Ronan explained, standing behind her, leaning in close as they examined the schematics together. "He stole the research, framed Thomas Lancaster for embezzlement to force an emergency liquidation, and bought the intellectual property for pennies at the bankruptcy auction."
Ivy felt a lump of grief and burning anger tighten in her chest. "My father died of a broken heart believing he had failed everyone. He died thinking his life's work was a ruin... when in reality, they stole his triumph."
"We will restore his name, Ivy. Every cent, every honor," Ronan vowed, his voice low and fiercely protective.
Suddenly, the library lights flickered and died.
Total darkness swallowed the estate. The backup generators did not kick in.
From the downstairs corridor, the unmistakable sound of breaking glass echoed through the silence, followed by the muffled groan of a security guard.
"Stay down," Ronan commanded instantly, pulling Ivy behind the heavy solid-oak desk.
He drew a sleek tactical flashlight and a sidearm from the hidden drawer under the desk. The quiet click of the safety disengaging resonated in the pitch black.
Footsteps moved with chilling discipline across the marble floor of the foyer. These weren't petty burglars—they were professional operatives moving in coordinated tactical formation.
"They aren't here to steal jewelry," Ivy whispered, her instincts sharp. "They're after the original Lancaster patent archives."
"Malcolm has already secured the panic room in the east wing," Ronan whispered against her ear, his breath warm against her temple. "We move through the servant corridor behind the bookshelf."
Just as Ronan triggered the hidden latch in the wood paneling, a burst of suppressed gunfire ripped through the library door, shattering centuries-old glass bookcases into raining crystal shards.
Ronan shoved Ivy into the narrow passageway, firing two suppressing rounds into the gloom before sealing the reinforced steel panel shut.
In the claustrophobic darkness of the secret staircase, their chests heaved against one another. Ivy could feel the rapid, powerful beat of Ronan's heart against her palm.
"Are you hurt?" Ronan asked, his hands urgently framing her face in the dark, checking for injuries with a tenderness that contradicted his lethal reflexes.
"I'm fine," she breathed. "Ronan... they know we have the evidence. They will burn the city down before they let this go to trial."
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"Then we will bring the fire to them first," Ronan replied, his eyes gleaming in the dark.
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