Ariana was still holding the folder her name printed boldly across the last page when a soft knock startled her.She froze.Quickly, she shoved the file back under the couch, heart pounding.“Ariana?” Liam’s voice came from the other side of the door. Calm. Low. Familiar.Too familiar.She inhaled deeply, forcing her pulse to slow, and walked to the door. When she opened it, he was standing there, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a paper bag.“I got food,” he said, lifting it slightly. “But first, you should call your dad.”She blinked.“My dad?”“It’s been two days,” he said gently. “He’s probably wondering why you’ve gone quiet.”Her heart skipped.Two days.Two whole days of being drugged, chained, and nearly blown apart. And her father didn’t even know.She forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.”He stepped aside and let her move past him, toward the bed where she picked up her phone. Liam sat across from her, silent, letting her have this moment.She dialed.It
It was morning already,Ariana stirred, her body still sore, but no longer trembling. She blinked into the light and slowly turned to the side the chair beside her bed was empty.He wasn’t there.Of course not.He’d walked out last night to answer a suspicious call in hushed tones and hadn’t returned for nearly thirty minutes.But he came back.She closed her eyes for a second and replayed the look on his face when he turned and caught her peeking. That split second of panic. Guilt. That wasn't the look of a man making a regular call.The door creaked.She opened her eyes.Liam walked in, looking like he hadn’t slept at all. He wore a simple black tee and dark jeans, and his hair was tousled in that effortless way that made her stomach flutter, even when her head screamed danger.“Hey,” he said softly, walking to her side. “You’re up.”She gave him a sleepy smile. “Barely. What time is it?”“Just past seven.” He held out a cup. “Tea. Herbal. Nothing too strong.”Her fingers brushed his
The car ride was silent.Ariana curled in the back seat,while Liam drove her body wrapped in his jacket, her mind still spinning from the events of the night. The smell of smoke clung to his skin. Her skin. Her soul. Her body ached in places she couldn’t explain, and her heart hadn’t stopped racing since the moment that man called Liam, Logan.He hadn't said a word since they left the underground building.Neither had she.He drove her straight to the private hospital he trusted, somewhere away from the city noise,clean, white walls, silence, safety.An hour later, she was lying on a firm hospital bed in a private suite. A drip fed into her vein, and the sting of disinfectant still clung to the cuts and burns on her body. She was cleaned up, bandaged, examined. The doctors said she was lucky — no major injuries, just exhaustion, minor bruises, and psychological trauma.Liam sat beside her.Elbows on his knees, hands locked together, his jaw tight like he was biting back a thousand thi
Liam gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles as he drove through the dense, tree-lined path that led to the underground facility. His face was unreadable,jaw clenched, brows tight, his eyes narrowed like a predator zeroing in on prey.No music. No words. Just the engine’s low hum and the war going on inside him.He replayed the footage from the hotel cameras again and again. The van. The masked figures. The exact route they took.They took her. While I was bleeding out. While I was too fucking slow.But now… now they’d pay.He stopped the car a few meters from the building and killed the lights.This wasn’t a mission.It was a rescue.No backup. No time. No negotiations.Just him… and hell.Liam stepped out, hoodie still on, a knife sheathed at his side and his gun locked and loaded. The facility was half-buried beneath layers of overgrown grass and gravel, barely visible except for a single guard smoking near the side door.First mistake.Liam moved like smoke,silent, lethal.
Liam was done playing nice.His knuckles were scraped, his ribs ached like hell, and the bastard had taken everything. Not just his gear… but Ariana. The only person who’d made him feel human again. And now, whoever was behind this had made one mistake:They didn’t kill him.He stood in front of the bathroom mirror of the dingy replacement hotel room, his hoodie hanging off his shoulder, torso bandaged with gauze he’d taped on himself. The bruises had started to form, dark and angry across his side, but he didn’t flinch.Pain wasn’t new.But rage?This was personal.He reached into the duffel bag he'd just replaced and pulled out what he needed:A slim custom knife.A tracker, already blinking faintly.His black tactical watch synced to the backup grid his father’s men had quietly reactivated.And… the pistol he had tucked into the waistband of his jeans.Liam clipped on the knife holster to his ankle, then tied back his curls with a tight band, the way he always did when things were
Screams and shadows Blood dripped steadily from the corner of Liam’s mouth as he staggered back into Room 709, his hand gripping the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Every muscle screamed, his ribs flared with each breath, but none of it mattered.They had taken his iPad.They knew exactly when he’d arrive.And they’d waited.He dropped onto the couch with a wince, grabbing the backup phone he always kept taped beneath the nightstand drawer. It shook slightly in his hand as he dialed the encrypted number.The line clicked.“Dad.” His voice was hoarse, strained.“What’s the situation?” The older man’s voice was calm, firm, but beneath the surface was a steel thread of urgency.“They jumped me… at the room. Took the iPad. It's gone,” Liam rasped. “I think someone’s feeding them info. They knew. They were waiting.”Silence.Liam waited, breathing shallowly, blood still dripping from his chin.His father finally spoke. “We’ll get you another route. Another way to