Plot Of Taken 2 Novels & Stories

She reached inside and pulled out the primary document—the photograph. Three months. Three entire months had passed since the investigator had first dropped this image onto her lap, and yet the passage of time hadn't dulled the sharp, jagged edge of what it represented. It hadn't changed the fundamental, ruinous truth captured in the silver halide grains of the print. Sophia leaned closer to the halogen light, her breath hitching slightly as she stared at the image. It was a candid shot, taken from a high angle through a telephoto lens, slightly grainy but unmistakably clear. It featured two men standing on the private tarmac of a secluded airfield just outside Zurich. One was Victor Hawthor

The only problem was that I hadn’t looked that clean in ages. I peered closer at the picture. I knew that face, that angle. My stomach dropped. The lying bastard had taken this one just before he sent me to the Middle East, and someone retouched it to hide what I’d really looked like. Tommaso was in league with the Marinos. “I guess… do whatever you want.” He pointed to a closed door. “Bathroom. The bed without the bag is yours.” He pulled out his cell phone and stepped through a second door that looked like it led to a sitting room.

I brought Adrian to an abandoned manor outside the city and tossed him onto a long chaise. His breathing steadied, and his amber eyes snapped open. "Where is this?" He scanned the room, ready for a fight. "Somewhere safe." I sat across from him, crossing my legs. "Adrian de Rake. A half-breed. Part wolf, part human." His body went rigid. "How did you know—" "In moonlight, your pupils narrow to slits. Like a beast's. Your heart beats twice as fast as a man's. And most importantly..." I gestured to his hand. "When you're tense, your nails sharpen without you realizing it."

I dragged Sofia into the main living room like a suitcase. The priceless Renaissance oil painting that used to hang on the wall was gone. In its place was an oversized photo of Sofia and Lorenzo, pressed together as they looked deeply into each other's eyes. What a revolting sight. I raised the gun and fired once. The photo frame shattered, glass raining down across the floor. Sofia screamed, intending to escape, but I kicked the back of her knee, forcing her to kneel onto the shards.

"What's gotten into you? Stop making a scene and go back to your room." His expression was already full of impatience as he looked down at his phone. Then, all of a sudden, mine vibrated. It was a bank notification. Three hundred eighty thousand had been transferred out of my account. I rushed forward, grabbing his collar, my eyes burning red with rage. "You already set up the transfer on your way back, didn't you? Do you have any idea how long it took me to save that money? Seven years and eight months! I never took a single day off—what right do you have to touch my money?"

Cropped out. And whoever took this one had to be standing behind him. My stomach dropped. Jaxon noticed my silence and sat up. “Sienna?” I turned the phone toward him. He took it, his eyes narrowing as he studied the screen. “This… isn’t the one you took.” “I know.” His hand tightened around the phone. “Who the hell—” Another buzz cut him off. A second photo. The same scene. This time closer. Like whoever took it had stepped forward.

"What the fucking hell is that?” Vespertine's eyes narrowed slightly. He commanded, “Bring in Harvey." Tarantino retorted with a scowl, "I don't want any doctor. I want her.” Vespertine said, “I'll give you an explanation tomorrow. Get treated." Tarantino's eyes darkened. "I don't need any explanation. I want her. Give her to me. Let her answer me. She has to pay.” Vespertine turned and walked out of the room.

Something worse. Across the city, in the same dark office the figure watched the footage replay. Lena stepping into the car. Escaping cleanly. Perfectly. A small smile formed. “Phase one complete.” A voice spoke from the shadows. “And phase two?” The figure leaned back. Calm. Certain. “Now we take something from him.” “Something he can’t afford to lose.” The screen flickered. Vanessa’s image appeared. Captured from earlier that day. Still. Unaware.