Chapter 27: The Ambush

The vehicle slammed on its brakes. The mob of fans swarmed the SUV, blocking it in.

Jude, with his senses from the Boundless Vitality skill, noticed something wrong.

While the fans were banging on the windows and protesting, four men wearing jackets and surgical masks shoved their way through the crowd.

The four men reached the passenger doors of the SUV. One of them pulled a baton from his jacket, smashing the window.

Another reached inside, grabbing the arm of Lyla, the lead singer of Stellar, attempting to drag her out of the vehicle.

Jude grabbed the nearest man by the collar of his jacket, lifting the thug off his feet, and hurled him backward into a planter. The impact knocked the man out.

The leader of the group, a man wearing mirrored sunglasses, spun around, swinging his baton at Jude’s head.

Jude ducked, the baton whistling inches over his hair.

Jude drove his knee upward into the man’s ribs.

The crack of bone echoed over the screams of the crowd.

As the leader collapsed, Jude planted a shoe onto the side of the man’s head, pinning his skull against the asphalt.

The remaining two thugs froze, looking at Jude standing over their leader. In less than five seconds, a man in a tailored suit had dismantled their ambush.

"If either of you move a single muscle, I will crush his skull," Jude said.

Jude applied a fraction of his weight onto his heel. The man under his shoe let out a shriek as the pressure against his temple became unbearable.

"Now," Jude said, looking down at the leader. "I am only going to ask this once. Idiots usually don’t get a second chance to answer me. Who is your boss?"

The man in the sunglasses clawed at the asphalt.

"Wait! I’ll talk!" the leader wheezed. "We’re just contractors! The guy who paid us is Silas Grey!"

"Silas Grey," Jude repeated, his eyes narrowing. He looked past the shattered window of the SUV, where Lyla was huddled in the backseat. "Do you know him, Lyla?"

Lyla shook her head. "N-no, I’ve never heard of him."

"We don’t know who the ultimate client is!" the leader groaned, his face grinding against the pavement. "Silas just gives the orders! But you don’t want to mess with him! He runs the underground fixer network in this city. Let us go, and I’ll tell him you’re off-limits!"

Jude chuckled. "You think I’m going to let you go? Get up. You and your men are going to take me directly to Silas Grey."

Jude lifted his foot. The leader scrambled backward, gasping for air and clutching his ribs.

He nodded, but a glint flashed behind his mirrored sunglasses.

If this man wanted to walk into Silas Grey’s headquarters, he was signing his own death warrant!

"Mr. Lawson?" Lyla’s manager whispered from the driver’s seat, recognizing Jude from the corporate memos. "Should I call the police?"

"Get her inside the building," Jude commanded. "The lobby is secure."

Jude turned his attention to the hood of the SUV. The older man who had faked the accident had stopped his groaning. Realizing the kidnapping had failed, the man tried to slide off the hood and disappear into the crowd.

"Hold it right there," Jude said, stepping into his path.

The old man froze, holding up his hands. "I don’t know them! I was just crossing the street! Your driver hit me!"

"My driver was stationary when you threw yourself onto the hood," Jude said, pointing to the red recording light of the SUV’s dashcam. "How much did Silas Grey pay you to orchestrate the blockade?"

The man’s face went pale. "N-nothing! I didn’t take any money!"

Jude held out his hand. "Give me your identification. Now."

The con artist pulled out his wallet and handed over his driver’s license.

Jude pulled out his phone and snapped a photo of the ID card.

"Your face and your actions are recorded on a dashboard camera," Jude said. "You accepted a bribe to facilitate the kidnapping of a corporate asset. My legal team at Vance & Sterling will ensure you are charged with federal conspiracy. You are looking at a minimum of ten years in a maximum-security prison."

The con artist’s knees buckled. He collapsed onto the asphalt, grabbing at Jude’s pant leg. "Please! I didn’t know they were going to kidnap her! They just told me to stop the car! I beg you, spare me!"

"Tell it to the federal judge," Jude said, grabbing the man by the collar of his jacket. Jude lifted the man off his feet and threw him onto the sidewalk.

The con artist landed hard, sobbing.

Jude turned to the thugs, who were limping toward an unmarked gray van parked near the curb.

"Get in," Jude ordered, sliding into the back of the van. "Drive."

...

Thirty minutes away, in an abandoned warehouse district on the edge of the city, a man wearing a gold chain sat at a table.

This was Silas Grey...

He was an underground fixer, specializing in corporate sabotage and paparazzi extortion.

He was smoking a Cuban cigar, his phone pressed to his ear.

"Relax, Pierce," Silas said, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. "I already have a team on the ground outside Apex Records. They are securing the girl as we speak. She won’t be attending any press conferences today."

On the other end of the line, Donovan Pierce let out a laugh.

"Excellent work, Silas," Donovan said.

Donovan had been humiliated at the private airport earlier that morning.

He could not attack Jude’s billions directly, but he could sabotage Jude’s newly acquired assets.

"Once you have her secured, I want you to force her to sign a contract termination. We are going to bleed Apex Media dry."

Silas tapped ash onto the floor. "Forcing an idol to break a contract is tricky, Pierce. I’m going to need double my rate for the legal fallout."

Donovan cursed under his breath. Silas was greedy, but Donovan was desperate for revenge.

"Fine," Donovan hissed. "But if I’m paying double, I want her ruined. Don’t just make her sign the papers. Stage a scandal. Take photos of her in a compromising position."

Silas chuckled. "You’re a sick man, Pierce. But I like your style."

"Stellar’s image is built entirely on their reputation," Donovan sneered. "Lyla is the golden child. If you leak photos of her to the tabloids, her brand dies. Apex Records will lose a hundred-million-dollar IP overnight."

"Consider it done," Silas grinned, taking a drag of his cigar. "My men should be pulling up any minute now."