The Billionaire Who Stole My Life and the Secret Brother Who Kept It
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his eyes widening. “If it’s a modern smartphone, Julian’s security team can ping the GPS even if it’s powered down. They have military-grade tracking software.”
My heart stopped.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the device.
It was warm to the touch.
Suddenly, the screen lit up again in my hand.
It hadn’t just received a text.
The screen showed a local map, with a pulsing red dot centered directly over our cabin.
“Throw it away!” Alexander gasped, trying to stand.
His legs gave out, and he fell back onto the sofa.
I ran to the kitchen, opened the back door, and threw the phone as far as I could into the snowy brush.
I slammed the door and locked it.
“They’re coming,” Alexander whispered.
“We have to go,” I said, my voice shaking. “We have to leave right now.”
I grabbed my heavy coat and helped him back to his feet.
He leaned heavily on my shoulder, his breathing shallow and rapid.
Before we could reach the front door, a low, rumbling sound echoed through the quiet woods.