Marcus's POV
"Sir, we traced the signal. It's coming from the industrial zone, the abandoned complex near the river."
The head of my security team spoke with clipped urgency, his hand tightening around the radio. My chest felt like a vice had clamped down, my pulse hammering against my ribs.
"Margaret…" I whispered her name, the sound breaking like glass inside me.
I had only just found her—after years of separation, after years of lies and silence. And now, someone dared to rip her away again.
No. Not again.
The thought burned through me like fire, searing away the fear that tried to claw at my chest. My pulse thundered in my ears, every second a reminder that she was out there, somewhere, surrounded by danger.
My jaw locked as I shoved the car door open, the slam echoing like a vow. "We move. Now."
The words came out rough, but steady, each syllable carved from the sharp edge of desperation and rage. There was no time to argue, no time to think. Only to act.
