The air was thick with tension as Ryan gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

His foot pressed hard against the gas pedal, the car tearing down the empty road leading toward the outskirts of the city.

The police had provided the location—a remote warehouse hidden deep in the industrial zone, far from prying eyes.

Beside him, Steve Jacobs sat in the passenger seat, his face a mask of cold fury. In the backseat, Emma was gripping her phone, watching the GPS as the destination neared.

“This bastard thought he could hide,” Steve muttered.

“He underestimated us,” Ryan replied, his voice dark.

The police vehicles followed at a safe distance...