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No time to catch my breath. I immediately scanned the dim corners, target clear—the ventilation shaft!

But disappointment hit quickly. From this angle, I could see clearly—behind the vent was a wall, blocking all possibilities.

No, couldn't give up now.

I took a deep breath, rallied my spirit, gaze sweeping the junk pile—a rusty screwdriver about arm's length, half-buried in rags.

Dead silence all around. Only my heavy breathing and wild heartbeat roaring in my ears. Time crawled in the cold air, every second stretching endlessly.

Heart pounding, I fought through the pain, using my freed right hand to quickly untie the already loose rope on my leftwrist. My feet were still bound, but I couldn't worry about that. Curling up like a cat, I moved as silently as possible toward the corner. Every movement pulled at my wrist wounds, pain making me suck in sharp breaths. While moving, I seemed to hear extremely vague, indistinct sounds from far away, like muffled impacts through thick walls. Could be hallucinations. This only made my nerves wind tighter.

Finally reached it! I grabbed that rust-covered screwdriver. The cold, corroded feel and not-too-heavy weight brought an unexpected sense of cruel comfort.

I quickly tucked it up my sleeve to hide it, then dragged my bound feet back to the chair. I carefully hid the screwdriver in the shadows behind me, quickly put my hands behind the chair to fake being tied, cleverly pressing the rope ends under my body. Disguise complete.

Back straight, blood-stained face slightly lowered, hiding the wolf-like viciousness churning in my eyes and the last tremor of fear for the coming storm.

Time crawled by second by second. Absolute silence was more torturous than noise. Just when I almost wondered if I'd been forgotten in this underground cage—

From far away came what sounded like extremely muffled, almost unrecognizable noises. Like heavy objects hitting the ground, or gunshots? Through layers of barriers, so faint they might be hallucinations, but they made the dead air suddenly tighten!

My heart clenched hard! Was someone coming? Or something else? Whether it was Marco returning, Gennady's people, or some other danger—

Whatever it was, I'd look for my chance. I wouldn't be a lamb for slaughter anymore.

My eyes held rock-solid determination.

For our child, for our future, I had to fight to the very last moment.

Chapter 26

Gennady

Three in the morning. The door hinges screamed through the dead silence. Dimitri burst in, wrapped in cold air, his face darker than the night outside. He went straight to the Chicago map pinned on the wall, jabbing his finger hard at the dense red dots, voice like sandpaper scraping rough wood. "Boss, we've turned over everything. Abandoned factories, blind spots at the docks, alleys even rats won't touch. All empty."

I sank deep into my chair, the weight of my head nearly crushing my propped elbows. Twelve hours. Every minute since Cassie vanished was like a dull knife scraping at my heart. My throat was dry as dust, words coming out torn. "The scene, tell me again."

"Signs of struggle and blood near the apartment, plus Vincent's car. Empty." Dimitri's voice dropped lower, heavy with regret. "Four men, including Marco—like Chicago swallowed them whole. Everyone we can mobilize, plus police contacts, nothing."

His gaze swept over those glaring red dots, finally landing on me. "Boss, every mark is a place our people searched, but—"

"Nothing." I finished for him. Those words stabbed into my lungs like ice picks, every breath tasting of blood and pain. My knuckles went white from clenching, nails nearly breaking skin.

"What about Ginnie? She crack yet?"

Dimitri's voice dropped even lower. "Passed out once, but still won't say shit."

Ice-cold killing intent shot straight to my head. Twelve hours ago, the second the news came, that fake face was burned into my brain. Basement. Chair. Ropes. Used methods, but she just wailed, swearing she had nothing to do with Marco. That painted face twisted up, tears mixing with sweat and blood running down, nothing but "I don't know" and "I'm innocent" coming out. Stubborn as hell.

My phone shrieked suddenly. Unknown number. My heart clenched like an invisible fist grabbed it. I answered.

"Gennady Sokolov, my dear enemy." Marco's voice slithered into my ear, dripping with sick, slimy pleasure. "Missing your little '???????' already?"

Blood rushed to my temples, ears ringing. "Where is she?"

"What's the rush? Don't you care about your missing dogs?" He let out an owl-like cackle. "Vincent—Ginnie told me he was the weak link. Poor bastard, his kid's getting dragged to death by leukemia. Just took a little cash to trade for your woman's location. Look at your loyal man! How fucking hilarious! Then," He paused deliberately, savoring my silence. "Bang! Problem solved. That's what traitors get. No need to thank me."

My knuckles cracked under the strain. So that's how. Cassie hid so carefully, but the fortress was eaten through from inside.