The elevator descended into the heart of Blackwood Tower like it was diving into the underworld.
Ava stood still, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her reflection fractured across the polished steel walls. The faint hum of the descent echoed in her ears, but her heartbeat pounded louder. It wasn't fear.
It was rage.
The doors slid open with a cold hiss.
What lay beyond wasn't a room. It was a command center.
Damian's private operations floor stretched out before her—dimly lit, silent but alive with blinking lights and tech murmurs. Walls of monitors displayed aerial maps, surveillance footage, encrypted data streams. A digital map of the eastern seaboard pulsed on the main screen.
It looked like something out of a military bunker.
Damian stepped in behind her. "Welcome to where empires are protected… and hunted down."
She didn't flinch.
"I'm not here to admire your empire," she said sharply. "I'm here to get Lily back."
"Then let's find her," he replied, his voice low but steady.
A group of men and women dressed in tactical black stood at attention. One of them—a lean man with salt-and-pepper hair and piercing gray eyes—stepped forward.
"Ms. Romanov," he greeted her. "I'm Levi. Director of Intelligence. Mr. Blackwood briefed us. We've already started scanning for your sister."
Ava nodded and stepped forward, placing a manila folder on the central glass table.
"Elena Romanov. Thirty-one. My half-sister. She took my niece from school this morning. No custody rights, no warning. She's dangerous and desperate."
The screen lit up with Elena's face—sharp cheekbones, dyed black hair, and a smile that looked more like a dare than warmth.
"She changed her name after fleeing the country three years ago," Ava continued, her voice gaining strength. "She vanished with Lily once before. I thought we were past that. I thought… she wouldn't do it again."
She turned, her eyes locking onto Damian.
"But I was wrong."
He didn't say a word.
He didn't need to.
He simply nodded to Levi. "Activate Protocol Echo. Tap all traffic cams, facial recognition, burner phone patterns in a 300-mile radius. Pull border security logs. I want full visual feed."
"Yes, sir."
Dozens of screens flickered to life.
Vehicles. Highways. Pedestrian footage. Phone pings.
And then—an alert tone sounded.
"Hit on a black van," Levi reported. "License plates traced to a front company. Registered three weeks ago. It's a decoy vehicle, but consistent with Elena's patterns."
On the screen: a grainy but clear shot of a van speeding past a tollbooth.
A child's pink backpack could be seen through the tinted glass of the back seat.
Ava stepped forward, her breath catching. "That's hers. Lily's bag."
"We're tracking the van," Levi said. "Heading east. Estimated arrival near the state line in forty minutes."
Damian moved beside Ava, his voice now lethal.
"She's not crossing that border."
Ava's hands curled into fists. "She better not."
As the room erupted into controlled chaos—orders barked, drones deployed, satellite feeds aligning—Ava stood like a flame in the center of it all.
No more tears.
No more pretending to be the obedient wife.
Now she was a mother at war.
"Patch me into the comms," she said suddenly.
Levi hesitated, glanced at Damian.
He nodded. "Give her what she needs."
One of the agents brought her a headset.
She slipped it on, her voice cool and sharp. "Elena always makes one mistake. She thinks no one will chase her this far. But this time…"
She leaned forward, eyes burning as she watched the van race toward the next exit.
"…I'll be waiting."
Meanwhile…
In a roadside motel reeking of bleach and cigarettes, Elena checked her watch. Lily was curled on the bed, asleep, unaware of the storm closing in around her.
Elena lit a cigarette, hand shaking.
She was out of time.
A man's voice came through her burner phone.
"She better be worth the price."
Elena swallowed hard. "She is. She's her daughter."
There was a pause.
Then, a chuckle. Cold. Cruel.
"Good. Then she'll fetch even more than expected."
Back in the command center…
The map zoomed in. Red lines converged. The van was nearing a checkpoint—and so were Damian's men.
"Prepare intercept," Levi ordered. "Fifteen minutes until contact."
Ava's pulse thundered.
She stared at the screen.
Closer. Closer. Ten minutes. Nine.
But then—
An alert flashed. The van had stopped.
Engine off. Signal dead.
Levi looked up, face pale.
"They've gone dark."
Ava froze.
Damian stepped closer, jaw clenched. "What does that mean?"
Levi's voice was tight. "It means either they switched vehicles…"
"Or they've already made the exchange."
Ava's throat went dry.
"Track every vehicle within a five-mile radius," she snapped. "Now."
The screen blinked again—this time, an image flickered.
A new car.
Black. No plates.
A shadowy figure placing a child in the back seat.
Damian's voice was ice.
"That's not Elena."
Ava's heart dropped.
Then the child looked up—just for a second.
And the camera caught her face.
Lily.
Being taken by a man they didn't recognize.
And then—
The feed cut to black.