The mafia’s captive
His men followed, a well-trained unit dismantling Volkov’s operation with precision.
In the center of the compound, a locked truck held the captives. Bain’s blood boiled as he saw terrified eyes staring back at him. Girls—young, broken, stolen from their lives.
Cassie’s face flashed in his mind.
With a single shot, he blew off the lock.
“You’re safe now,” he told them. “No one will ever touch you again.”
Tears, relief, whispered prayers.
Bain turned to his men. “Get them out of here.”
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