Zed moves straight ahead instead of turning to the left as initially planned. So I start presuming that Zed has changed his mind about picking up Ella himself. But then he turns right, and soon, we enter a black gate. “What are we doing here?” I ask Zed. Seeing him unfastening his seatbelt, I also do mine. “Hurry, Ar. We need to change the vehicle, a bullet-proof one.” “Who is living here?” “One of my teams.” Zed jumps down from the car and runs towards my side to open the door for me. But before he reaches me, I have already stepped one foot out. “Ara, just stay here. You will be safe here. This area is heavily guarded, and the security is high. I will pick you up once everything is over. But in case I can’t, my team knows what to do with you,” Zed speaks in utmost tenderness. His face even paints his gratefulness and worry for me. But I don’t like him saying goodbye. I may not be of any help to him, but I want to accompany him until

I feel my fear sucking the air out of me. If I have to see myself in the mirror, I must already be as pale as death’s shade. Zed glances at me worriedly, but his expression is worse than mine. I know very well that he’s not scared for himself but us. Every minute that ticks by feels like taking away some years from my life.“Where are we now?” Mitch asks, her eyes moving around fast. She’s as scared as me!“We’re going uphill,” says Zed. He looks now at Ella, who is now fast asleep due to the sedative that Mitch administered to her. Because of my fear, I didn’t even notice before that an intravenous solution was dripping above her.“Will the baby be alright?” He’s sleeping soundly on the stroller beside the stretcher. I can’t help noticing how Ella has prepared for this.“She must be. I have been able to prepare her needs ahead.”The ambulance then skids to a turn. Mitch and I hurriedly peer through the slits of the curtains and see that we’re entering a wide gate. Zed also peeks out,

My brows furrow as I look at the woman whose voice rings loud and clear inside the room. She looks like she is in her mid-fifties, but a strong and domineering aura emanates from her. Her presence speaks of authority, and the lift of her chin and fiery gaze is enough to tell she holds a high position that even James bows down in respect. “My queen! Why are you here?” exclaims James, his previous arrogant look melts down against the power and authority of this woman. “Put down your weapons!” she orders, moving her eyes around. The three burly men instantly bend down and put their guns on the floor. I look at James and also find him conceding. He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, then bows down, placing his gun on the floor. “Surrender all the weapons, not only those in your hands!” My eyes grow wide at her command, and my gaze darts toward the men pulling the pistols and knives hidden inside their jackets. I also watch James disengage an oliv