The car grinds to a stop at the edge of the abandoned shipping yard. Rusted containers lean against one another, graffiti streaking their metal sides. Puddles of stagnant water reflect the overcast sky, and the smell of oil and rot hangs thick in the air. Broken pallets, coils of rope, and scattered debris crunch underfoot as we step out.
I move ahead cautiously, eyes darting to every shadow. The ground is littered with shards of glass and twisted metal, remnants of something—or someone—discarded. The distant sound of a loose chain rattling in the wind makes my muscles tense.
Lev flanks me, scanning, his gun loose in his hand but ready. “This place is a fucking maze,” he mutters, taking a slow step forward, boots crunching on gravel and broken concrete.
I signal him to hold, crouching to inspect a trail in the mud—footprints. My pulse spikes, and then I see it: the shattered phone, cracked and half-buried against a rusty container. My chest tightens. I know, without a doubt, that she was here.
Lev’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “How the fuck…?”
I don’t answer yet. My eyes are fixed on the phone, on the proof that she’s been taken. The yard is quiet now, too quiet, the kind of silence that screams danger.
“What the fuck? How was she taken from your fortress?” Lev’s voice is sharp, incredulous.
I shake my head, running a hand over my face. “Impossible. No one could have breached the security…. She would have had to walk out on her own.” My jaw tightens, anger and disbelief coiling inside me.
Lev’s frown deepens. “What the hell would make Noelle walk out to meet them?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. My mind is racing, spinning through every possibility, every scenario. My heart pounds against my ribs as the weight of it hits me—I’ve failed her, even for a moment, and now she’s somewhere else, vulnerable. The fury and helplessness clash inside me, leaving me cold and raw.
I tuck the broken phone into my pocket and rise, keeping my gaze sweeping the yard as Lev mutters something about this being a bad idea and needing to leave.
We move fast, boots crunching over glass and metal debris, the chill wind whipping against our faces. Every step is tense, every shadow a potential threat, but I can’t stop thinking about her. Where is she?
My phone buzzes in my hand. Demyan. I answer immediately.
“Kiril’s been located,” he says, voice tight with the rush of news. “The bastard thought he was invisible. Didn’t bother to cover his tracks. We’ve got him.”
I swallow, fists tightening around the phone. Relief mixes with rage, but there’s no time for either.
We head back to the car, the broken phone burning in my pocket like a signal flare.
This ends tonight.
Chapter 21 – Noelle
I wake up slowly, a rough scrape of metal against my skin. My wrists burn, tied tightly to the arms of a cold, metal chair. The first thing I notice is the smell—stale oil, dust, and something faintly metallic that makes my stomach churn. I blink against the dim, gray light filtering through high, grimy windows and realize I’m not anywhere familiar.
Slowly, the shape of my surroundings comes into focus. Stacks of wooden pallets loom in jagged shadows. Rusted crates tower over me like silent sentinels. The concrete floor beneath my feet is cold, and somewhere in the distance, a faint drip echoes through the cavernous space.
It hits me then: I’m in a warehouse. A real, abandoned, empty warehouse. Panic flares, and my heart hammers in my chest. The ropes bite into my skin as I struggle, tugging at them, but they hold firm.
The memory of the text flashes in my mind. “He won’t come back, but I can help you find out more.” That curiosity—I had answered it. I had gone down to the street, approached the black car waiting outside my building, and now…this.
I don’t remember anything after that.
I tug again at the ropes, trying to gauge if there’s any give, but my wrists ache violently. I force myself to stay still and listen. The faint hum of a generator, the distant drip of water, the creak of metal overhead—all sounds that seem magnified in the cavernous silence of the warehouse.
I close my eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. No. Niko will come. He promised. I have to survive until he does.
And then, somewhere above, I hear it—a subtle creak, deliberate. Someone’s here. My pulse spikes, and my head snaps toward the sound, straining against the shadows. My hands acheagainst the ropes, but all I can do is wait, suspended between fear and the hope that he’ll find me before anything else does.
My head throbs, the rope cutting into my wrists a little sharper with every movement. I blink against the dim light, trying to steady my spinning thoughts, when a sudden shadow falls across the floor.
I freeze as Anton comes into view.
It’s been…so long since I’d last seen him. Time stretches strangely, and yet here he is, impossibly present, fit and taut, his black hair falling just so over his forehead, his black eyes sharp and piercing. Even in the dim light of this warehouse, he looks too composed, too deliberate, too…dangerous.
I feel a terrible surge of hatred.
