The phone call left Mike paralyzed.

Not by fear—but fury.

His mother, Isabella Richard, might have been a cold-hearted, manipulative woman who spent most of her energy undermining his decisions, but she was still his blood. And Ryan Taylor had just threatened that blood with death.

He stood by the window, the skyline of the city gleaming under the early sun, as the words echoed in his head. "You have 48 hours. Or she bleeds."

His assistant, Marcus, paced in the background. “We traced the call to a burner phone. It pinged once near the old industrial district before going dark. Could be a warehouse or abandoned facility.”

“Sweep every...