Mag-log inChapter 23.
Skye smoothed her shirt with trembling fingers, took a breath, centered herself, and pulled open the door.
Lena stood there, a whirlwind of colorful fabric and oversized earrings, already halfway through a sentence.
"I’m telling you, the lighting in the west wing is absolute garbage this time of year, and if we don't…"
Chapter 90.Jonas froze, his hand still hovering near Skye’s face. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing."What? What?!" Jonas whispered, his voice cracking.Skye didn't answer. She breathed through her nose, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She had already loosened the tie on her left wrist, so the gap was there.The front door of the warehouse opened, then came the shouting "Check the perimeter!" a voice bellowed. "Clear the floors! If it moves and it isn't wearing a patch, break its legs!"Jonas scrambled back, his face pale. He reached for the heavy iron pipe leaning against the wall, his movements frantic. "You think they can find you here?" Jonas hissed, glaring at Skye. "You think that biker trash knows this place like I do?""They're not just bikers," Skye rasped, her voice a dry ghost of itself. "They're his family."‘Seriously? That’s your concern? We’re about to die!’ Skye’s subconscious screamed at her.The sound of a struggle erupted in the hallway
Chapter 89.Skye sat bolted to a wooden chair, the coarse rope biting into her wrists, leaving raw red strips of skin where the friction had burned into her wrist.Jonas paced the small space of the basement, he held his phone like a weapon, his thumb obsessively swiping across the screen. The silence from the other end was sucking the air out of the room. He stopped abruptly, his chest heaving, and glared at the device."He isn't answering," Jonas spat. His voice sounded like gravel grinding together. "The arrogant son of a bitch is just ignoring me. Why isn’t he answering?!" He grinded his teeth towards Skye’s direction before turning back around.Skye leaned back, her head lolling slightly. She kept her breathing shallow, masking the tremor in her hands. Beneath her, her fingers worked with a focused precision. She had found a jagged splinter of wood protruding from the chair’s crossbar. It was a tiny, lethal sliver, and she was rubbing the rope against it, millimeter by fucking ag
Chapter 88.Lena slammed her palm against the desk, as her eyes remained glued to the monitor, where two glowing dots overlapped on a map of Berlin."It is a match," Lena breathed. "The coordinates Mara sent overlap perfectly with the digital footprint Axel traced from the fixer."Axel leaned over her shoulder, his gaze narrowing. "Spandau. The old textile district. It is a graveyard of rust and concrete. Perfect for someone who wants to hide a body or a hostage." Kai did not wait for the end of the sentence. He stood up so abruptly his heavy chair screeched across the floor and flipped backward. He did not look at the chair. He did not look at the map. He looked
Chapter 87.After receiving Jonas' first message, Kai had concluded there was no point for him to stay in Berlin, so he took a quick flight back to Dusseldorf. In the center of the Sturm clubhouse, the silence was a physical weight. Kai paced the length of the room, his boots thudding against the hardwood. His jaw was set so tight it looked like granite. Every few seconds, he would stop, stare at the wall, and then pivot, his movements jagged and predatory.The phone in his hand buzzed.Another messageKai looked down. The image loaded slowly, and as Skye’s battered face filled the screen, the world seemed to tilt. The sight of the bruise blooming across her cheek and the hollow look in her eyes triggered something primal in him. A roar of pure, unadulterated rage ripped from his throat, a sound that belonged to a wounded animal.He hurled that phone across the room. The device slammed into the brick wall, shattering into a thousand plastic shards, easily because of the first slam in
Chapter 86.A metallic tang clung to the back of Skye’s throat as a single bulb flickered overhead, Her wrists burned where the zip-ties bit into her skin, the plastic searing her flesh every time she shifted. She didn't struggle blindly. Instead, she felt the tension of the ties, noting the slight give in the left one where the plastic had frayed against a jagged edge of the metal chair.Jonas stood before her now, his breathing heavy, his face a map of desperation and misplaced pride. He looked diminished, the polished veneer of the star athlete replaced by a frantic, sweating mess."You think you're so smart, don't you?" Jonas spat, his voice cracking. "The little photographer. The girl who thinks a few pictures and words can ruin or make a man's life."Skye tilted her head, ignoring the trickle of blood running down her temple. She forced a thin, jagged smile."I didn't ruin your life, Jonas. You did that the moment you thought you could treat people like disposable toys. I just
Chapter 85.Skye woke to the smell first, it was thick, metallic, and rotten, clinging to the back of her throat every time she breathed. She opened her eyes slowly, refusing to move too quickly until she understood where she was.Concrete ceiling? Got it. Bare walls? Yep. Also, a single yellow bulb hanging overhead. The room was small, windowless, and damp, rusted pipes running along one wall, some of them disappearing into the concrete. Somewhere nearby, water dripped at slow, irregular intervals.Drip. Drip. Drip.Her wrists hurt.Skye looked down, there were zip-ties and her hands were bound behind the







