SHARON'S POV
My head throbbed like someone had driven nails straight through my skull. Every breath scraped against my throat, dry and rough. I didn't know how long I'd been here, hours, maybe a full day. The air smelled like rust, dust, and oil. The ropes around my wrists burned every time I tried to move.
Somewhere beyond the door, I heard voices. Male voices, laughing, arguing, boots dragging across concrete. Then one pair of footsteps broke away from the rest.
Getting closer.
My pulse jumped.
"No… please, no."
The hinges creaked, and a dim beam of light sliced through the dark. A tall shadow filled the doorway and it wasn't Victor Langley, I could only wish it was Aec but it wasn't...
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The smell of alcohol hit me first.
"Finally awake, huh?" he said, his voice rough, drunk on arrogance.
He crouched in front of me, his grin widening. "You caused a lot of trouble, sweetheart. Didn't think one girl could stir up this much noise."
I turned my face away, the taste of iron thick on my tongue. "Please… just let me go."
"Didn't think your boyfriend would let you rot this long," he said, grinning.
I tried to shrink back, but the ropes dug deeper into my skin.
"Stay away from me," I whispered, my voice hoarse.
He laughed. "Or what? You'll scream?"
When he moved closer, I kicked out, my foot slamming into his knee. He cursed, stumbled, then lunged forward. His hand caught my arm, rough and tight.
"Don't touch me!" I screamed, but it only made him angrier.
He laughed softly. "Relax, pretty thing. I'll make this quick."
His hand reached out, brushing my cheek, and in that instant, I knew what he meant.
Panic shot through me like electricity. I jerked away, the chair screeching across the floor.
"Don't you dare..."
He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him, but rage overrode fear. He shoved me hard against the wall. My head hit something metal. There was a sharp crack then heat, wet and sticky, crawling down my face.
For a second, everything tilted. The world blurred. My ears rang, drowning out his voice.
I could barely see his face now. My body felt heavy, too heavy. My fingers slipped, useless.
And all I could think was Ace.
Ace, I'm sorry.
I tried to breathe his name, but the air refused to come.
Darkness folded around me, soft, cold, endless...
The man froze. His breath came hard and uneven as he stared at the thin line of blood trailing from Sharon's forehead.
"Shit…" he muttered, crouching beside her.
He pressed his fingers against her neck, searching for a pulse. There was nothing he could feel, maybe because his hands were shaking so badly. Panic crept into his eyes.
From the hallway came the muffled sound of voices were heard again, the others were coming back.
He cursed again under his breath, then grabbed her limp body and dragged her toward the center of the room. Her hair brushed against the concrete floor, leaving a faint trail of red.
"Didn't mean to," he whispered, almost pleading with himself.
The door rattled. He jumped back, wiped his hands on his jeans, but before he could get out the other's found him, the man stood frozen near the door, his chest heaving.
Sharon lay motionless on the cold concrete floor, her hair spread across the dark stain of her own blood.
One of them knelt to check her pulse. "She's out cold," he muttered. "Maybe worse."
The first man stepped back, swallowing hard. "I didn't mean, she just hit her head..."
"Shut up," another snapped. "Boss said keep her alive."
The sound hit first, a deep, rattling BOOM, followed by a spray of gunfire that split the night.
The men froze.
"What the hell...?"
Another blast ripped through the side of the warehouse. Bullets tore across the metal sheets, sparks flying. One of the guards went down before he could even raise his weapon.
"We're under attack!" someone screamed.
Chaos erupted. Crates overturned, men shouted orders no one followed.
A breathless guard burst in, face drained of color.
"It's him, it's the boss's son! Ace Langley's here!"
Every man in the room went still.
The leader's jaw clenched. "Everyone, listen... you don't shoot him. I don't care what happens, you don't touch the boss's son. Defend yourselves only, got that?"
"Yes, boss!"
He turned sharply to the men near Sharon's limp body.
"You two, move her to Warehouse 9. If she's dead…" his tone hardened, "…we say it happened during his attack. Make it clean."
"Yes, boss."
The leader dialed a number with shaking fingers. "Mr. Langley, we've got a problem, your son is here, with backup, it's bad" He ducked as a bullet ripped through the air, ending the call. "Damn it!"
Outside, the storm was already here.
Ace moved like a shadow, silent and precise as Chris's men covered the perimeter. Gunfire flashed in the distance.
The first man lunged at him near the entrance. Ace sidestepped, caught the man's wrist mid-swing, twisted ...
A snap.
The guard dropped, groaning.
Another came at him from behind with a pipe. Ace ducked, grabbed the man by the collar, and slammed his head against the wall. He didn't slow down.
Chris's voice came through the comms. "Left sector clear. She should be inside, boss."
Ace slipped into the warehouse, eyes sweeping across the chaos. The stench of oil and blood mixed in the air. He saw her almost instantly, two men trying to drag her but as soon as they saw Aec they ran off...
Sharon was lying still, a faint trace of blood down her temple.
His chest tightened, but his expression didn't change. He strode forward through falling dust and chaos. A man from behind tried to stop him, Ace struck once, fast, no hesitation. The man dropped.
He crouched beside Sharon, pressed his fingers against her throat but he felt no pulse.
"Chris," he said quietly, "I've got her."
"Then move. We'll hold them off." Chris replied
Ace tore the ropes off her wrists, lifted her gently. For the first time, his breath trembled.
He turned for the exit as bullets shattered glass overhead. Chris shouted, "Go! We'll handle this!"
Ace hesitated for half a second, his jaw tight. "Don't let any of them walk."
"Already planned that."
Ace moved through the smoke like a ghost, carrying her out into the night. His men had a car ready, doors open, engine running. He slid into the back seat, cradling her carefully.
"Drive."
The tires screeched against the cracked road, speeding into the darkness.
Then the headlights flared in the rearview mirror, black SUVs closing in.
The driver cursed. "Sir, those cars are not ours. They're Victor Langley's men!"
Ace's stare hardened, cold and unreadable. "Of course they are."
The car jolted as a bullet hit the bumper.
Ace leaned back, his hand steadying Sharon's head. "Don't you dare give up on me," he whispered.
Another shot cracked the night.
"Faster," he ordered.
The driver pressed harder on the accelerator, engines roaring as the chase began, Ace silent, Sharon bleeding, and the whole world closing in behind them.