2

Aiden's hands shot up above his head so fast he almost hit himself in the face. His heart was already racing from everything that had happened, and now three guns were pointed at him like he was some kind of threat.

"Whoa, whoa–" he started, his voice shaking.

Then it clicked. Those black cars. He'd seen them in the private parking lot when the taxi dropped him off. Big, expensive-looking SUVs with tinted windows. The kind that screamed money and power. He'd been so focused on getting inside that he hadn't thought twice about it.

Someone important was here. And he had just barged right into their meeting.

"I'm sorry," Aiden stammered, his hands still up, fingers spread. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to… I just need to see the boss. Please, I just need to see him for one second…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" one of the guards barked.

He was built like a tank, shoulders broad enough to fill a doorway, with a scar running down the side of his neck. His gun didn't waver an inch.

Aiden shrugged, trying to look as harmless as possible. His mind was screaming at him that this was the wrong move, that he should've called the police, but he was here now. "I… I have access. I work here. The elevator–"

"I didn't ask for your life story," the guard snapped. "I asked how you got in."

Aiden's mouth snapped shut. The way the man said it made it clear he wasn't actually looking for an answer. He was looking for a reason to do something worse than just point a gun at him.

The men didn't lower their weapons. If anything, they seemed to grip them tighter. Aiden's arms were starting to ache from holding them up, but he didn't dare move.

"Look," he tried again, his voice breaking. "My niece… she's missing, please. And my father, he's–"

The word caught in his throat like a piece of glass. He couldn't say it. Couldn't force the word "dead" past his lips. His eyes dropped to the floor, stinging with tears he was trying so hard to keep back.

"He's..." Aiden's voice cracked. "Please. I just need help."

"Pathetic," one of the other guards muttered under his breath.

Aiden's jaw clenched, but he kept his hands up. He didn't care what they thought of him. He just needed someone to listen.

Then a voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

The voice was deep and rough. It came from the corner of the room.

Aiden's head snapped up.

A man stepped out of the office into the lounge. He was really tall, maybe six-two or six-three. Dressed in a dark blue suit that fit him like it was made just for his body. His hair was pulled back in a bun, dark strands catching the light. 

But what really got Aiden's attention was the fact that his shirt was open at the top, showing a muscular chest and the edge of a tattoo that disappeared under the fabric.

Aiden found himself wondering, just for a split second, where that tattoo led to and what the full design could be.

He cleared his throat, his face heating up. What the hell was wrong with him? His father was dead, Elena was missing, and he was thinking about some guy's tattoos?

"He barged in here like a crazy person," the guard with the scar said, gesturing at Aiden with his gun. "Didn't knock. Just came running in."

The tall man's eyes locked onto Aiden. They were dark, cold, and calculating. Like he was deciding whether Aiden was worth the air he was breathing.

"I just need to see the boss," Aiden said quickly, before anyone else could speak. His voice was steadier now, fueled by desperation. "Please. That's all."

The man's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. More like a predator showing its teeth.

"You're looking at him," he said, his voice dripping with barely contained irritation. "The fuck do you want?"

Aiden's hands slowly lowered. Wait. What?

This was the boss?

When had that changed? His old boss was a middle-aged guy with a beer gut and a receding hairline. This man looked like he could snap someone in half and not even break a sweat. This man looked dangerous.

But if this was the new boss, then maybe, he had even more power than the last one. More connections. More resources.

Aiden didn't think. He just moved.

He dropped to his knees right there on the office floor, the impact jarring his kneecaps. He brought his hands together in front of him, fingers laced together like he was praying.

"Please," he said, and he didn't care how desperate he sounded. "Please, I need your help. They killed my father. They took my niece… She's only six years old. Please, you have to help me find her. I'll do anything. Anything."

The boss's expression tightened. His jaw clenched, and for a second, Aiden thought he saw a flash of pure annoyance cross his face. Like Aiden was a bug that had just landed on his expensive suit.

One of the guards shifted, clearly waiting for the order to drag Aiden out. Or worse.

But then something changed.

The boss's eyes narrowed. He tilted his head to the side, studying Aiden's face like he was a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. His gaze swept over Aiden's features… his messy dark hair, his tear-stained cheeks, the blood on his clothes.

Aiden looked up at him, desperate, pleading.

And the boss went completely still. Like he'd seen a ghost.

"Sir?" one of the guards asked, noticing the shift.

The boss didn't answer. He kept staring at Aiden, and there was something in his expression that they couldn't quite read.

Aiden watched as the boss's hand came up to his chin, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip. 

Finally, he spoke. 

"Let's say I help you. I find your niece and the people who killed your father."

Aiden's breath caught. "You will?"

The boss held up a finger to his lips and leaned in, just enough that Aiden could smell his cologne. 

"What are you going to offer me in return for this favor?"