Chapter 287

Lucas's POV

I gave Serena a reassuring glance, hoping to ease the worry etched across her beautiful face. My team of security personnel flanked us as we approached the abandoned warehouse. The night air felt heavy with tension, each breath a calculated move in this dangerous game.

"Stay close," I ordered.

My heart hammered against my chest, but I maintained a composed exterior. I didn't dare act too boldly, so I proceeded with careful precision, each step measured and deliberate.

I positioned myself against the cold metal door, pressing my ear to listen for any movement inside. Nothing. The silence was more unsettling than any noise could have been. I exchanged glances with my head security guard, a subtle nod conveying my command.

With practiced efficiency, he produced a pair of bolt cutters, working on the padlock with surprising delicacy for his size. The metal gave way with only the faintest click, a sound that seemed to echo in the tense silence surrounding us.

"Ready?" I mouthed to my team.

The door swung open, revealing a darkness so complete it seemed to swallow the meager light from outside. I couldn't make out anything beyond the threshold-it was as if the warehouse opened into a void.

"I'll go first," said one of my security guards, clicking on a small tactical flashlight.

I followed immediately behind him, unwilling to wait. The second guard took up the rear, ensuring our protection from all sides. The beam of light cut through the darkness, revealing a scene of abandonment and decay. Construction materials lay scattered across the concrete floor, covered in a thick layer of dust. The air was stale, carrying the scent of mold and neglect.

My eyes scanned every corner, every shadow. The light caught particles of dust dancing in its beam, but no sign of human presence. My chest tightened with growing suspicion.

"Is anyone really here?" I thought, the doubt creeping into my mind like poison. Had we been led into a trap? Was this all a wild goose chase while Milo was somewhere else entirely?

A faint sound-barely perceptible-caught my attention. The scrape of a shoe against concrete, perhaps. Then, a shadow moved at the edge of our light's reach.

"There!" I pointed, and one of my guards immediately gave chase, disappearing into the darkness beyond.

I stood alert, every muscle in my body tense and ready. Something felt wrong. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I experienced that unmistakable sensation of being watched.

Instinct took over. I pivoted sharply to the side, just as a figure lunged from the shadows behind me. The movement was so fluid, so immediate, it surprised even me.

My guard reacted instantly, throwing himself between me and the attacker. The two men collided with brutal force, grappling in a deadly dance. I could hear their labored breathing, the impact of fists against flesh.

The other guard, hearing the commotion, abandoned his pursuit and rushed back, joining the fray with professional precision.

I pulled out my phone, activating its flashlight to better see the scene unfolding before me. As the light illuminated the attacker's face, recognition hit me like a physical blow.

"It's him," I said, my voice a dangerous whisper. "The man from the video."

The realization crashed over me in waves. If this man was here, where was Rachel? Where was my son? I swept the flashlight around, illuminating every corner of the warehouse. Nothing but debris and shadows.

"She's not here," I said, the words bitter on my tongue. "Milo's not here either."

Anger surged through me, white-hot and overwhelming. Rachel knew me too well, knew exactly how I would respond to that video. She anticipated my every move, using my predictability against me. This had been a game to her all along, and I had played right into her hands.

My guards had subdued the attacker, forcing him to his knees before me. His face was bloodied, but his defiant expression remained intact.

"We've got him secured, sir," my guard reported, maintaining a tight grip on the man's arms.

I approached slowly, my footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. When I spoke, my voice was ice.

"Where is Rachel Thorne?"

The man spat blood onto the concrete floor. "I don't know."

Something snapped inside me. I struck him across the face, the impact sending a shock of pain through my knuckles. I barely felt it through the haze of my rage.

"I'll ask you one more time," I growled, leaning close. "Where has Rachel taken my son? I swear I can kill you right here, right now."

His eyes, though fearful, remained resolute. "In our line of work, you either live or die. I've made my peace with that. Go ahead and kill me if you want, but I will never betray my employer..."

I struck him again, harder this time. Blood sprayed from his lip, spattering the floor. My control was slipping away with each passing second.

I grabbed his throat, my fingers digging into his flesh. "Tell me where Rachel is!" I demanded, tightening my grip. "Where is my son?!"

He choked and gasped but managed to wheeze out his defiance. "I'd rather die."

Something primal took over then. My vision tunneled until all I could see was this man-this obstacle between me and my child. I squeezed harder, watching as his face turned red, then purple. Some distant part of me knew I was crossing a line, but I couldn't stop. In that moment, I was capable of anything.

My face contorted with fury.

"Lucas!"

"Lucas, stop!"