Oliver Wellington, a man in his late 50s, looked nothing like the powerful businessman he once was. His graying hair was tucked under a worn-out cap, and his usually sharp features were hidden behind the rough texture of an old, oversized coat. His boots, scuffed and muddy, added to the disguise that made him nearly unrecognizable. His steps were quick but careful as he navigated through the crowded subway station, his eyes darting around, scanning every face with a mix of wariness and desperation.The station was a bustling hive of activity, with commuters rushing to catch their trains, the hum of conversation blending with the distant roar of arriving subways. The smell of damp concrete and the metallic scent of the tracks filled the air. Oliver’s heartbeat quickened as he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of two men trailing him. Their expressions turned blank, almost indifferent, the moment they realized they had been spotted. One of them, a tall man with a shaved head, l
Oliver's senses returned to him gradually, like a man surfacing from the depths of a dark, cold sea. His head throbbed painfully, and his vision blurred as he struggled to focus on his surroundings. The world around him came into focus in jagged fragments—the cold concrete floor beneath him, the musty smell of the warehouse, and the distant hum of machinery.The damp air of the warehouse filled his lungs as he inhaled sharply, trying to gain his bearings. Blinking away the fog in his mind, his eyes settled on a figure standing a few feet in front of him. The man’s presence was both commanding and menacing, his expression one of cold amusement.“Hello, Oliver. You probably don't know me. I'm Greg. Greg Walclaw,” the man introduced himself, his voice dripping with a casual arrogance that made Oliver’s skin crawl.Oliver stared at him, the recognition slow to come. He nodded slightly, not showing much surprise despite the situation. His gaze dropped to the ropes binding him to the chair
Greg turned fully to face the intruder, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. The warehouse fell into a tense silence as all eyes darted to the figure emerging from the shadows. Dressed in a black leather tracksuit, the intruder moved with a grace that seemed almost predatory. Slowly, the person reached up, pulling off a dark nose mask to reveal sharp, determined eyes. With a deliberate motion, the hood was drawn back, and a cascade of jet-black hair tumbled down, catching the dim light of the warehouse."A woman?" Greg muttered, amusement flickering across his face. The smirk on his lips widened as he watched her step forward boldly, her face now fully visible—stoic and unwavering. It was Anna, her features hardened like a warrior’s, her eyes cold and focused, betraying nothing but the intent to protect.Greg raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Who are you?""Anna," she replied, her voice steady.Greg chuckled, his eyes raking over her with a mix of curiosity and desire. "Wow, regardless of th
Gabriel stepped further into the room, the weight of the moment heavy in the air. As he emerged from the shadows, revealing his full form, his eyes locked onto Anna. She stared back at him, her face a mix of relief and pain, but her eyes couldn’t hide the fear that had gripped her. Blood trickled from a cut on her cheek, staining her pale skin, but she still managed to give him a weak smile.Greg, standing nearby, noticed the exchange and couldn't resist mocking the situation. "Ah, so the hero finally arrives. How noble," he jeered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.In a blur of motion, Gabriel crossed the room with lightning speed. He lashed out with a powerful kick that connected squarely with Greg’s chest, sending him flying into a corner. Greg’s body hit the wall with a sickening thud, and he rolled on the ground, coughing up blood, his breath ragged.The remaining thugs froze, their eyes wide with fear, but none of them dared to retreat. They began to inch forward, ready to attac
The few remaining thugs in the warehouse shuddered, their confidence shattered. They slowly backed away, retreating to the far side of the room, fear evident in their eyes. Anna rushed to Gabriel’s side, concern etched on her face.“Gabriel, are you okay?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.“I’m fine,” Gabriel replied, his tone firm. “Untie my father and get out of here, Anna.”As Anna ran to free Oliver, Greg struggled to sit up, clutching his stomach in pain. “Hey, Gabriel,” he called out lazily, his voice weak but defiant. "Look, even if your father doesn’t die today, you will."Gabriel sneered, his eyes narrowing. “You talk too much, Greg.”Greg’s smirk returned, though it was more forced this time. “Guys, attack him. Now!” he ordered, his voice rising in desperation as he tried to rally his remaining men.But the fear in their eyes showed they knew it was a losing battle. Gabriel braced himself, his muscles tense as he prepared to finish what he had started.Greg’s eyes dar
Gabriel exhaled sharply, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. “Good,” he muttered, though his eyes still held a spark of concern.Zoe’s expression hardened. “Greg’s not going to get away with this. I’ll make sure of it.”But Gabriel shook his head, cutting her off. “I don’t want the police involved, Zoe. I need to handle this myself.”Zoe hesitated but then nodded in understanding. “Alright, but what about the thugs? We still need to deal with them.”Gabriel shrugged dismissively. “You can make something up. They won’t say anything useful anyway.”At that moment, a tall man in a police uniform approached them, his gray hair and stern demeanor giving away his years of experience. “Gabriel, what happened to you?” he asked, concern etched on his lined face.“It’s nothing really. Just some thugs who wanted to steal from him,” Zoe lied smoothly.Gabriel nodded in agreement, his gaze unwavering. “Yeah, just a misunderstanding.”The man, Inspector Hastings, narrowed his eyes but
In the dead of night, Ruth sat alone in the living room, staring at the wall with worry etched across her face. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of her son, Greg, and the gnawing fear that something terrible had happened to him. Suddenly, a loud knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts. “Who could it be at this hour?” she wondered aloud, her voice trembling with anxiety. For a moment, she considered calling out to Leo, who was upstairs and probably still awake like her, but another heavy knock broke her train of thought. With her heart pounding in her chest, Ruth walked cautiously to the door. As she opened it, her jaw dropped in shock.“Good evening, ma’am,” a man greeted, standing in the doorway with Greg slumped against him, looking battered and barely conscious. Ruth let out a blood-curdling scream as the man dragged Greg inside, laying him down on the couch. The sound of her scream brought Leo rushing down the stairs. He stopped dead in his tracks, horrified by the si
Master Russell’s face hardened, his jaw clenched in fury. “Failed? What do you mean, failed? Explain yourself, now.”Greg took a shaky breath, his eyes filled with fear and regret. “I had them, Grandfather. I was so close to finishing Oliver. But Gabriel… he intervened. I tried everything—darts, tear gas—but it wasn’t enough. He fought back, and I barely escaped with my life.”Russell’s expression turned even more severe, his eyes blazing with anger. “You were careless, Greg. Incompetence runs deep in you.”Ruth, unable to stay silent any longer, gently touched Greg’s arm, her voice trembling. “Please, let him rest. He’s been through enough.”Russell didn’t even glance at her, his focus entirely on Greg. “Rest? He doesn’t deserve rest until this mess is cleaned up. You’ve brought shame to this family, Greg.”"Shame? Seriously, father-in-law? My son didn’t kill the people you wanted him to kill, and you label that as shameful? What about you who is…” Ruth’s voice trembled, her courage