Chapter 2 - The Escape and the Safehouse
The grand lobby of the Grand Palmer Hotel was a blur of marble, gold leaf, and startled tourists as Jasmine sprinted through, her heavy silk train bunching around her knees. She grabbed the fabric, ripping the delicate tulle to free her legs as she ran. Tasha, her maid of honor, was right behind them, her high heels abandoned, running barefoot in her peach-colored bridesmaid dress.
"To the side doors!" Tasha yelled, pointing toward the valet exit. "My car is parked in the alley lane!"
Behind them, the heavy brass doors of the ballroom burst open. Marcus and two other security guards in dark suits flooded the lobby, their eyes scanning the crowd.
"There!" Marcus shouted, pointing at the flash of Jasmine’s white dress.
"Mom, they're coming!" Zayn sobbed, his small legs pumping as fast as they could. Jasmine scooped him up into her arms, ignoring the strain on her back, while Tasha grabbed Zach's hand, and Zoe bolted ahead, leading the way with fierce determination.
They burst through the service exit into the chilly Chicago afternoon air. Tasha’s battered, seven-year-old Honda Civic sat idling near the loading dock—a stark contrast to the fleet of pristine black Rolls-Royces lined up at the front valet.
"Get in! Get in!" Tasha screamed, hitting the unlock button.
Jasmine threw the back door open, ushering the triplets inside. She scrambled in after them, her massive dress filling the entire backseat like an exploding cloud of white silk. Tasha slammed her foot on the gas just as Marcus emerged from the alley doors. He leaped toward the car, his hand clipping the side mirror, but Tasha swerved sharply, the tires screeching as they tore out of the alley and merged into the chaotic flow of downtown traffic.
"Oh my god, oh my god," Tasha muttered, her hands shaking violently on the steering wheel. "We just ditched Richard Caldwell at the altar. We are officially public enemies number one through five."
"Are we safe?" Zayn whispered, burying his face in Jasmine’s lap. Jasmine wrapped her arms around all three of her children, holding them so tightly she could feel their synchronized, rapid heartbeats.
"You're safe, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got all of you," Jasmine murmured, kissing the tops of their heads. She looked down at Zach, who was staring at the tablet screen. "Zach, how did you get that audio?"
Zach wiped his nose with his sleeve. "I was trying to bypass the hotel's firewall to play my game. I hooked my tablet into the local subnet. But then I saw an encrypted bridge connecting the hotel's private router to a local cloud drive. It had Richard’s name on it. He... he didn't use a secure handshake protocol, Mom. It was a lazy security configuration. I bypassed it in three minutes."
Jasmine felt a bittersweet pang of pride. She had taught Zach the basics of networking, but the boy was a natural-time genius. At six years old, he had just bypassed a billionaire’s personal security network.
"And what else was on that drive, Zach?" Jasmine asked, her gut twisting.
Zach looked up, his amber eyes filled with a gravity too heavy for a child. "Folders, Mom. Lots of them. They had names. One of them was named 'Lakeshore Project.' And another one had your name on it. But there was a lock on it that I couldn't crack before the bad men chased us."
"Lakeshore Project?" Jasmine repeated. Lakeshore Institute of Technology was where she had developed her software. It was also where she had met her mentor, Dr. Eleanor Simmons.
Suddenly, Tasha’s phone, resting in the cup holder, began to buzz violently. The caller ID showed an unknown number.
"Don't answer it," Jasmine said instantly.
"It might be Eleanor," Tasha pointed out. "She was at the wedding. She saw the whole thing."
Jasmine hesitated, then clicked the speakerphone. "Eleanor?"
"Jasmine, thank God," Eleanor’s voice came through, tense and strained. "Are you and the children safe?"
"We’re in Tasha’s car. We’re driving, but I don't know where to go. Richard’s security team is going to hunt us down. He wants the tablet, and he wants my software."
"Do not go back to your apartment," Eleanor warned. "Richard’s men will already be waiting there. And do not go to Tasha's place either. Listen to me very carefully. Drive to the old industrial district near the shipping canals. I have a research lab there—a private facility that isn't registered under the university's name. I’m sending you the coordinates now. Go there. We need to look at what is on that tablet."
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"Eleanor, thank you," Jasmine said, tears finally pricking her eyes.
"Don't thank me yet, Jasmine," Eleanor said quietly. "I think... I think I know what Richard was planning. And it is far worse than just stealing your software."
