PHILIP SCOTT: THE LOST HEIR

CHAPTER 78

The silence in the room was overwhelming, almost suffocating. Jessica could feel the cold concrete beneath her as she struggled to keep her balance, the fear gnawing at her insides. Philip was right beside her, his breathing shallow, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. They had been thrust into yet another dark, unknown place, with no sense of time or location. The heavy doors had slammed shut behind them, leaving them with nothing but the sound of their own breathing and the pounding of their hearts.

Philip’s mind was racing. Every possible scenario, every potential escape plan, ran through his head, but each one seemed more impossible than the last. Their captors had been meticulous, leaving no room for mistakes. They had been bound, gagged, and tossed into the back of that van with a precision that made Philip’s blood run cold. Whoever was behind this was not an amateur; they were dealing with someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

“Philip,” Jessica’s