Novel & Cerita Victorious Trapped In Rv

He nearly hit the wall, but I stepped in and caught his arm before he could lose his balance completely. He let out a low, breathless laugh at the contact. "Careful," I mumbled, supporting his weight. He nodded, leaning into me slightly. I looked around the parking lot, searching for his vehicle. My gaze settled on the sleek blue Rolls-Royce parked on the far side of the lot. I lifted his arm and draped it over my shoulder to guide him toward it. "Thank you for coming, Camelia," Luke said, his words rolling into each other, slurred from the liquor. "I thought I was going to sleep on the pavement tonight."

The taxi ride back to my dorm was fast. Maya was asleep when I left, a soft, trusting smile on her lips. She had no idea the person she thought was her perfect boyfriend was a fraud, a shell of a man whose mind was consumed by her father. I paid the driver and stepped out, the cool night air hitting me like a slap. My dorm was a ten-minute walk away, a safe haven of normalcy, but I couldn't go there. I couldn't go back to my life, not yet. Not with this poison still thrumming in my veins. I pulled out my phone, my fingers shaking as I typed the address I already knew by heart. The Petrov Tower.

Amidst the chaos of monitors showing Olivia's performance, Kania's focus locked onto the tablet. On the map, she saw the pin icon marking Arka’s location, which was far away, outside the city. But a new notification that just popped up in the corner of the screen made Kania hold her breath: Message: The bait was successful. Let K.E. see it. Do not touch her. "The bait?" Kania repeated the word, a chill spreading through her. Arka was setting a trap for her? She rushed to the tablet, trying to photograph the message as proof. But in her haste, her hand mistakenly pressed an icon. Instantly, the map on the screen changed, displaying the mansion's layout in infrared and tracking mode. Right at

‎ ‎The realization terrified her. ‎ ‎Miles away, Victor sat inside a speeding SUV. ‎ ‎Half a dozen vehicles followed behind him. ‎ ‎The convoy tore through the city streets. ‎ ‎Every resource he owned was searching. ‎ ‎Every camera. ‎ ‎Every contact. ‎ ‎Every operative. ‎ ‎Finally, one lead surfaced. ‎ ‎An abandoned train station. ‎ ‎Victor stared at the location. ‎ ‎His instincts screamed. ‎ ‎Trap. ‎ ‎The problem was simple. ‎ ‎Emily would go anyway.

“Both of you.” For a moment, she let herself stay in the illusion. She let herself feel what it would be like to truly belong here. To be the one Luca looked at with that kind of love. To be the mother of his child. It was more dangerous than she had anticipated. The same night, on a deserted road outside Rome, Victor was released. He stumbled out of a black van, hands bound, blindfold removed. He was conscious. Shaken. Alive. No torture. No broken bones. Just a message delivered coldly before they drove away:

No plates. Two men step out. They don’t grab her violently. They talk. She steps back. They move faster. She’s taken. She fights—god, she fights—but they shove her in, close the door, and drive. “Freeze it,” I say. The frame stills. Her face. One second before the door shuts. Eyes wide. Lip bleeding. Hands reaching back. I touch the screen, my throat dry. “Trace the van,” I say. Graham nods. “Already flagged to three interstate checkpoints.”

They were all leverage. "Don't go." Victor’s voice was a low, agonizing groan from the bed. He was trying to sit up again, blood bubbling at the edge of his bandages. "It’s... a trap. Elodie." "I have to, Victor." "I'll kill you myself before I let you walk into that camp!" Victor roared. He surged upward, his eyes turning a violent, glowing gold. He made it to the edge of the bed before his legs gave out.

“Victor, I can’t keep running scared, nor can Amy and Mr. Gray. Their home is in Denhurst. The terror of the red wolves must end, or sooner or later, they will get me alone and possibly kill me.” “I understand,” Victor said. “But deliberately putting you in harm's way will be difficult for me.” I needed to convince him Alex’s plan was a good one. “I understand your feelings,” I told him. “But a controlled situation like our trap would be better for me than finding them in my bedroom some morning after you leave for work.” Victor knew I was right. “We will do it. I need a day or two to choose a team to help us set and spring the trap. But our plan must be flawless, or I will call it off.”

Then came the sound of boots—scuffed, panicked. A pair of guards burst into the room. One was limping, his thigh bleeding through the gauze wrapped hastily around it. The other looked better off, but the grim look on his face told me everything before he even spoke. “We couldn’t get him, sir,” he announced. My stomach twisted. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice calm but sharp. The injured one stepped forward, teeth clenched in pain. “We reached the safe house in Sector 4. Everything looked quiet. But there were traps—explosives, false footprints, surveillance jammers. We barely made it out. Victor escaped.”

Axel shouted. "No," Victoria's voice from inside the warehouse. She emerged. Gun in hand. "You want her? Come take her." "Ghost, don't!" I screamed. "It's a trap!" But it was too late. Gunfire erupted. Axel and his team took cover behind containers. Victoria's guards advanced. Bullets everywhere. I was trapped in the vehicle. In the middle of a war zone. Rookie pushed me down. "Stay low!" I heard shouting. More gunfire.