With a big piece of wood in my hand, I find some guy talking on the phone. I bang the back of his head and he falls like a sack of beans. Holy cow! I just hope he's alive. Immediately, I search through his pockets and grab his gun.

With all of my strength, I pull his heavy body away from the doorway.

There are a lot of drums inside the warehouse, blue-colored and sealed. I wonder what's inside but the scent of spirit overwhelms my senses. It's probably ethanol.

As I breathe again, the air is mingled with smoke, and I gather one foolish man having a cigar from across the room. Is he out of his damn mind? For all I know whatever is housed in this place is highly flammable, unless my Chemistry teacher was a total klutz.

But well... To each their own.

"What have I said about smoking your fucking pot here?" A man's voice thunders.

At least someone has a brain! I hide behind one drum, peeping at them discreetly from the opposite direction. The place is huge but fully occupied with merchandise.

"Sorry, boss, I—" A fist lands on a jaw, halting a speech.

"Get the fuck out of here! Now!" The grumpy one bellows, and he looks like the one in charge. "Wait!" he snaps, and the other one halts. "Where is Dino?"

"He stepped out. He got a call," he answers.

"You're all useless!" the grumpy one retorts.

He's big and muscled, his long hair tied up at the back of his head. There's a computer on the wooden table, and he frowns while looking at what could be footage of everything going on outside.

I can't see any of it.

"All clear, chief," he suddenly says into the radio call he's now holding.

Was he checking for an intruder?

I wait until he's all set on his chair, and my eyes find the staircase heading to the second floor. Maybe that's where Adrian is, but I don't know what's going on to have taken him this long. Is he okay? Has he found Jake? I'm losing my mind not knowing anything.

I'm about to move when I suddenly hear, "What should I do with the kid? He's still tied up in the big storage room."

' Some kind of electricity runs through me. Is he talking about Jake?

"Alright." He puts the radio call off and drags his long feet toward the table.

Big black boots wiggle as he reclines comfortably in his chair, whistling like a small-town don.

I know I'm impulsive and foolish by coming here even when Adrian specifically told me to stay put, but I can't wait and do nothing. Should I try searching for Jake? But what if there are many others on the second floor? I should look around.

Tentatively, I shift from one drum to another, my steps ever slow and quiet. I manage to make a swift exit and stick myself against the wall that's connected to the narrow staircase. I hold my breath, waiting to see if that guy has sensed anything enough to leave his post.

Fortunately, he's still there.

I exhale a breath before taking the stairs. There's no other soul on this side, but the more I ascend, the more I hear muffled voices of men talking. I halt, my chest heaved high, and my hands locked with the wall as if my life depends on it.

Again I take my chances and throw a glance. Just a few closed doors and one that's wide open on the right side. A small breath of relief escapes me, even though I'm not sure what exactly I'm doing here. Stupid! I close my eyes tightly, thoughtful.

The voices are coming through the open door. Maybe it's where Adrian is. But I need to look for Jake because I know he's right here. Maybe it's among these rooms, but which one exactly? One at the far end, or the other at the left side?

Or maybe in the garage outside? Damn! He said there is a big storage room, so it certainly shouldn't be here. I compress my lips together into a thin line, my stomach tingling as I can't seem to make any decision now. Should I go out to look for Jake, or stay here and search for Adrian?

"I knew there was a rat." Something hard and cold rests on my temple when someone breathes from behind me. "Make one step and I'll blow your pretty brain off."

Fuck! I squeeze my eyes tight, yelling mentally at myself for being so foolish. Why didn't I listen to Adrian? Now I'm gonna get myself killed. Or all of us? So foolish! I open my eyes and slowly start to turn around so I can see the guy.

"No, no, no, don't even think about it, sweetie. I know what you did to Dino down there," he warns, and a click of his gun reminds me of how safety works. It's cocked now. "Hands in the air." I do as he says. "Now move," he snaps meanly.

My breath turns harsh as I take slow steps forward. I have a gun in my possession, but how am I gonna use it with arms up in the air? Think, Ara, think. Maybe I should let him take me to that room and see if Adrian is okay. And then what? Stupid woman!

"Chief. We have another guest here," the guy announces when we walk into that room, which is some kind of ordinary office space.

But much to my dismay, I see Adrian stuck on a wooden chair, a freaky revolver pointed at him by a man standing beside him, and two more men standing on the other side, looking amused as though whatever they've been talking about was something hilarious.

I feel like my heart is in my throat as I realize his wrists are bound together in metallic handcuffs at the back.

"Oh, and a pretty one, huh?" the so-called chief remarks.

Focused on Adrian, I see him hissing under his breath, highly disappointed to see me, and I sail in regret.

"Are you with her?" the chief asks Adrian.

He's an older Caucasian man, probably in his late forties, wearing a black suit and an eye patch that gives him an easy villainous look.

Adrian growls and fixes his furious eyes on me. "No, I don't know her. You can put a bullet in her head and I won't care," he deadpans.

He's not serious, is he? My insides shriek, but I hold myself steady as the chief guy laughs evilly while taking interest in my presence now. He walks nonchalantly toward me.

"A pretty girl in my damn warehouse? This is odd." He grins at me, and his round figure towers over mine, bringing his bald head closer. "What are you doing here, girly?"

"I..." I don't know what to say, but I look at Adrian and he's so indifferent toward me, seated still as if he's done with me.

"Cat got your tongue, huh?" The chief laughs and slowly raises his revolver pointing at me. "If he's not with you, then he certainly won't mind me blowing your head off, will he?"

I can feel a bead of sweat on my forehead as I close my eyes tightly. If I'm to die right here, I just wish Jake would get out of here alive so Isla won't be alone. It's my fault that I'm caught up here, but I hope Adrian can save himself and leave here alive.

"But why kill her when we can play with her?" the chief adds.

A rumble of collective laughter flies around me, making my eyes wake. A rough knuckle runs against my cheek, boiling my blood with rage. No! Again I close my eyes and tighten my fists, and that very same hand trails toward the valley between my breasts, and this time I fail to hold it.

Slowly I lower my hand, ready to get that gun underneath my dress.

"I do believe you've had enough fun. Yes, she's with me!" Adrian snaps.

The chief smirks and his touch on my skin stop altogether. "I thought so. Which has me wondering how am I going to—"

"If you lay a finger on her, I'm gonna leave with your head!" Adrian yells, and at the same time, a group of men barges in, holding big guns.

"What the fuck!" The chief grunts and his men have their weapons at the intruders.

My eyes widen when I see Mario at last, looking no more like that nonchalant driver in a black suit, but rather like a badass undercover on a mission. His handgun held tightly, eyes firm and menacing, he glances around as if making sure we're all fine.

"All good, boss?" he asks Adrian, who is already at his feet.

"All good." He throws the handcuffs on the chair, and I'm damn sure no one has helped him to unlock them.

How did he do it? Chief's men are wondering the same as they give him a questioning look. He sighs while adjusting a strange pinky ring around his finger. Shock blooms inside me, unable to recall any time I've ever seen him wearing it.

"That ring," says the chief, his one visible eye narrowed in a surprised design. "No way! Are you—"

"I am," Adrian answers coolly.

I frown. What are they talking about?

"No," the chief huffs a laugh, looking like a child who's met Santa Claus for the first time. "And what—" He pauses, eyes facing the window that's in the same direction Adrian is.

' More men are scattered outside.

Woah, Adrian!

"Tell your men to lower their toys if you all want to get out of here alive," Adrian orders quietly, his tone of voice deceivingly normal.

But I can see power when I feel it, and this man here knows how to use it.

When the chief looks around, he easily discerns that he's outnumbered. Only a fool would make a foolish move. With his single wave, his men disarm themselves. Automatically, everyone calms down, and once again I recall how to breathe like a normal human being.

"Are you okay?" Adrian asks me in a low voice, his anger is still unchecked through his eyes.

He's so mad at me.

"I'm okay," I reply, even though I'm shaking inside.

"I told you to wait in the car," he deadpans.

"And I heard a gunshot," I snap.

"Still..." He grits his teeth and leans into my ear. "You' could've died here, Arabella!"

"But I didn't so get over it, okay?" I don't need to be lectured even though he's right.

He wants to protect me, I get it. But I care about him too, the same way I do my brother.

More or less.

Adrian grunts and steps away.

Despite the clear distaste for defeat, the chief seems to swallow his pride and asks Adrian to take a seat. They both sit down across one another, a large wooden table in between. I exchange glances with Mario, and he just nods at me with a faint smile.

So he ain't just a driver. Cool!

"What exactly do you want?" the chief asks Adrian.

"Release the boy," he answers simply.

"Not gonna happen. The kid is the only way for me to find those rats."

"That's why I proposed a deal, but you were too adamant to listen," Adrian utters.

Curiosity lingers in Chief's eye. "What deal?" he quizzes.

' "You let the boy go and I will give you the information you need about the 21 gang," Adrian replies. "You can either snatch the measly goldfish or get yourself a big fat whale. The choice is yours."

The two men stare at one another for a good while, and I'm busy waiting for the miracle to come. I want to see Jake so badly that it hurts. I can't even imagine how terrified he must be, being locked up in some smelly storage room all alone.

And when they finally bring him, my heart melts like an ice cream in the sun. Tears flood my eyes, and I fling myself toward him, pulling him into a warm embrace. He seethes in pain, and I figure he's beaten and hurt, his shirt almost torn up. I cry, seeing his bruised face, one bloodshot eye, and one burst lip.

"Are you okay?" I ask him urgently.

He nods softly. "I am."

Relief washes over me, so grateful that he's alive despite everything.

"You're a monster!" I yell at the fucking chief.

"So I've heard, pretty one. If I were you, I'd tie that kid up because if I catch him next time he'll be a dead man," he answers ruthlessly. "You hear that, kid? Dead!"

"Mario, escort them out," Adrian demands.

Mario disposes his gun into safety and waltz toward us.

"Let's go," he offers gently, taking Jake's hand toward his broad shoulder.

I do the same and slowly we scoot Jake outside, leaving Adrian and a few of his men inside. I don't doubt he can handle himself. It feels like a beautiful sunrise after a stormy night when we finally reconnect with fresh air. Was that what the brink of death feels like?

It's so scary.

We're about to reach our car when a black BMW sedan pulls over, accompanied by two black SUVs, all with fully tinted windows. We stall, watching a man in a very neat, white suit taking off, surrounded by three bodyguards in black.

"Fuck," Mario utters, and I quickly glance at him.

"Do you know him?" I inquire, curious about the man who's staring at us with ease.

He's old, fancy, and seemingly powerful in just one glance of his looks.

"Can you get him in the car?" Mario asks me, ignoring my question.

That means he knows the old man.

Before I could answer, Jake stoutly replies, "I can walk on my own."