EAMON'S POV

I paced back and forth in the dimly lit study, holding a glass of whisky in my palm. My heart hammered against my chest, anxiety clawing at my thoughts. The rescue operation had taken longer than expected, and every second that passed without news about Isadora's safety only intensified my worry.

Victor sat in a chair nearby, pouring himself a drink, the bottle on the table, his typically stern expression etched with concern. The tension in the room was palpable, and the minutes felt like an eternity.

"Where are they?" I muttered, my voice edged with frustration. "They should have returned by now."

Victor, unhappy about not leading...