Chapter 4 - The Ambush in TorontoThe following night, the storm hit.
I flew to Toronto alongside Grace and a team of four private security officers to oversee Tyler's emergency medical transfer. Rain lashed against the tarmac at Toronto Pearson International Airport as our private jet touched down.
Inside the private pediatric wing of Toronto General Hospital, twelve-year-old Tyler lay in a hospital bed, hooked up to heart monitors, his pale face looking fragile against the white sheets.
When Grace stepped into the room, she stopped, her breath catching in her throat.
"Tyler..." she whispered.
The young boy turned his head slowly. He stared at her, his dark eyes widening as a long-forgotten memory seemed to spark behind his eyes.
"Grace?" he choked out, his voice weak. "Is... is that really you?"
Grace dropped to her knees beside his bed, pulling him into a delicate, desperate hug, crying hysterically as she kissed his forehead over and over again. "I'm here, sweet boy. I'm so sorry it took me so long... I'm so sorry..."
I stood near the door, wiping a stray tear from my own eye, feeling a profound sense of peace wash over me. For six years, this woman had sacrificed everything for this moment.
Suddenly, the emergency alarm on the hospital floor began to blare.
The lights in the corridor flickered and died, plunging the wing into dim emergency backup lighting.
"Mr. Walker!" my head of security, Jackson, barked, drawing his sidearm as he stepped through the door. "We have a security breach! Two armed men posing as local transport officers just entered the elevator bay!"
Grace gasped, pulling Tyler tightly against her chest. "Ethan!"
"Stay behind me!" I commanded, stepping in front of the bed, pulling a heavy brass desk lamp from the nightstand to use as a weapon.
The heavy doors of the pediatric ward burst open.
Two men in dark coats rushed into the hallway, holding suppressed pistols. But before they could reach our room, Jackson and my security team engaged them, tackling the men to the floor in a flurry of chaos, shouts, and shattering glass.
One of the intruders was pinned against the wall by Jackson. A cell phone slipped from his pocket, skittering across the floor to my feet.
I picked it up. The screen was still active, showing an ongoing call with a number registered in New York.
I put the phone to my ear.
"Is it done?" a smooth, arrogant voice asked over the line. "Did you secure the boy's medical records before the Walker family touched them?"
It was Harrison Thorne.
"Harrison," I said into the phone, my voice dropping an octave into pure, lethal coldness.
There was a sudden, sharp silence on the line.
"Ethan?" Harrison asked, his voice narrowing. "You shouldn't be interfering in corporate matters that don't concern you, son. You're risking your family's empire for a charity case."
"She’s not a charity case, Harrison," I growled, looking back at Grace, who was holding her brother’s hand in the dim light. "She’s my wife. And by next week, I’m going to strip Vanguard Enterprises down to its copper pipes and watch you spend the rest of your life in a federal prison."
"You're a fool, Walker," Harrison sneered. "You think you can protect three kids scattered across three continents?"
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"They aren't scattered anymore," I replied calmly. "Check your flight logs, Harrison. Mason landed in New York two hours ago. Emma is on a plane from Munich. And Tyler is coming home with me."
I ended the call and smashed the phone beneath my shoe.
