CHAPTER 17
The snowstorm in the Alps was ferocious,
whipping icy wind against Khloe's goggles as she navigated the snowmobile down the treacherous,
unmarked mountain slopes.
She looked down momentarily to check on her son,
who was tucked safely inside her heavy coat,
warmed by her body heat and miraculously quiet,
as if he understood the gravity of their escape.
Behind her,
she could hear the faint,
menacing roar of other engines,
proving that Julian's mercenaries had brought their own winter vehicles to pursue her through the wilderness.
She twisted the throttle,
forcing the snowmobile to its absolute limits,
the machine leaping over snow drifts and weaving dangerously through dense clusters of pine trees.
Bullets began to zip through the air around her,
thudding into the tree trunks and sending showers of white snow and bark into her path.
She knew she couldn't outrun them forever on the open mountain,
so she steered toward a narrow,
hazardous canyon where their larger vehicles would have trouble following.
The canyon walls rose up sharply on either side,
creating a natural fortress of rock and ice,
shielding her from the crossfire but limiting her escape routes.
Suddenly,
a massive snowmobile emerged from a side trail,
attempting to ram her vehicle and push her off the narrow,
icy ledge into the abyss below.
Khloe reacted with split-second instinct,
slamming on the brakes and letting the attacker overshoot her,
his vehicle flying past her and plunging over the cliff edge into the deep ravine.
She didn't stop to watch,
accelerating again,
finally seeing the distant lights of a small Swiss village at the base of the mountain.
Safety was close,
but the remaining pursuers were closing the gap,
desperate to eliminate the final pieces of the Thorne legacy before help arrived.
She pushed the machine forward,
her hands freezing,
May you like
her vision blurred by snow,
driven entirely by the primal urge to keep her baby alive.
