Chapter 288

Serena's POV

I couldn't stop pacing outside the warehouse, my entire body thrumming with anxiety. The night air felt thick and oppressive against my skin, but I barely noticed it.

"Come on, come on," I whispered to myself, rubbing my arms as I stared at the dilapidated building. Every second felt like an eternity. My entire heart was suspended in midair, unable to settle back into my chest.

The warehouse loomed before me, its windows broken and dark. What was happening inside? The silence was almost worse than hearing something-anything-that might tell me Lucas was okay.

Then I heard it. The unmistakable sounds of a fight-grunts, thuds, something shattering. My body moved before my mind could catch up, racing toward the entrance.

"Ms. Sinclair, you can't go in there!" Miles appeared from nowhere, blocking my path. His usually impassive face showed genuine concern. "It's not safe. Let me and my men check first."

I nodded reluctantly, watching as he disappeared with two security guards into the darkness. My fingers twisted together anxiously. One minute passed. Then two. When Miles didn't return, I couldn't bear it anymore.

The rational part of my brain screamed at me to stay put, but my heart wouldn't listen. The moment Miles was out of sight, I slipped through the heavy metal door and entered the warehouse.

The interior was pitch black and smelled of mildew and something metallic that made my stomach turn. I fumbled for my phone, switching on the flashlight to guide my way through the maze of abandoned crates and machinery.

That's when my light caught them-Lucas standing over a man, his hands wrapped around the stranger's throat. The man's face was turning purple, his legs kicking uselessly against the concrete floor.

"Oh my God," I whispered, my blood turning to ice. If I hadn't illuminated them with my phone's flashlight, I would never have known Lucas was in the process of killing someone.

"Lucas!" I screamed, my voice echoing through the cavernous space. "LUCAS HARRINGTON!"

He didn't even flinch. His focus remained laser-sharp on the struggling man, his hands tightening further. I'd never seen this side of him-this cold, merciless version that scared me to my core.

"Where is she?" Lucas growled, his voice so low and dangerous I barely recognized it. "Tell me where Rachel is or I swear to God, this is your last breath."

My mind raced. Murder was illegal-obviously-but more than that, I couldn't let Lucas throw everything away like this.

When my voice failed to break through to him, I rushed forward, wrapping my arms around him from behind. My entire body trembled as I pressed myself against his back, feeling the tension in his muscles.

"Lucas, let him go," I begged, tears streaming down my face. My voice cracked with desperation. "Please, you have to stop. You have to let him go! I can't-I can't let you do this. If you kill him, what happens then? You'll go to prison. What about Milo? What about Stella? What about..." I choked on a sob. "What about me? What am I supposed to do if you're gone?"

For a terrifying moment, nothing changed. Then I felt a slight hesitation in his body, a momentary rigidity that told me my words had penetrated the darkness consuming him.

Slowly, painfully, his fingers unclenched. The man collapsed to the floor, gasping and coughing violently.

Lucas knelt beside him, grabbing his shirt collar. "Where is Rachel? What has she done with my son?"

The man merely wheezed, unable or unwilling to answer. Lucas's jaw tightened dangerously, but he stood up and stepped back toward me.

"Miles," he called, his voice eerily calm now. "Get what we need from him. But don't..." He glanced at me, something complicated passing across his features. "Don't let it end in death."

Miles nodded once, motioning for his men to take over.

Lucas turned to me fully then, his gray eyes finding mine in the dim light. I must have looked a wreck-mascara streaking down my cheeks, hair wild from running my hands through it countless times.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, the words so inadequate for what had just happened.

I shook my head, unable to form coherent thoughts. Instead, I reached for his hand, interlacing our fingers tightly. I tugged him toward the exit, desperate to leave this place.

The car waited outside, its interior a sanctuary from the horror of the warehouse. I slid in first, Lucas following silently. As the vehicle pulled away, I realized I was still shaking uncontrollably. Whether from fear, adrenaline, or worry about Milo, I couldn't tell.

Minutes stretched in silence. I stared at our still-joined hands, wondering how the same fingers that had nearly ended a life minutes ago could feel so reassuring against mine.

"She did this deliberately," Lucas finally said, breaking the oppressive quiet. "Rachel planned this."

I nodded slowly. "Yes." It wasn't a question. Rachel Thorne had orchestrated this entire nightmare as revenge. She'd taken Milo to hurt Lucas, to hurt me-knowing exactly what buttons to push.

"We should review the video again when we get back," Lucas suggested, his thumb absently stroking the back of my hand. "There might be something we missed."

I nodded again, no energy left for words. The car slowed as we approached the towering luxury apartment building.

Lucas and I stepped into the penthouse. The familiar scent of home offered no comfort tonight. Spencer and Drew looked up from the living room, their faces tense with expectation. One glance at our expressions was enough - they didn't bother asking for details.

"Nothing?" Spencer whispered.

I shook my head, feeling the weight of failure pressing down on my shoulders. The crushing disappointment threatened to overwhelm me, but I couldn't allow that.

Without a word, I made my way to my desk and sank into the chair, immediately pulling up the traffic camera footage. The blue glow of the screen illuminated my face as my fingers flew across the keyboard, searching desperately for any sign of Rachel in the sea of nighttime traffic.

"There are too many blind spots in the traffic surveillance," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. "Trying to figure out where Rachel disappeared from these fragments is practically impossible."

But I couldn't give up. I wouldn't.

My mind raced with possibilities. "Rachel isn't that familiar with Manhattan's transportation system. She definitely wouldn't know where all the camera blind spots are. It can't be coincidence that she disappeared in one of those gaps. If I look carefully enough, I might find something..."

"Serena."

Lucas's deep voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to find him standing beside me, his tall frame casting a shadow across my desk. Despite his composed demeanor, I could see the exhaustion etched into his features - bloodshot eyes, tension in his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow that never seemed to fade these days.

He held out a bowl of soup. "Eat something."

"I'm not hungry," I replied, already turning back to the screen.

His hand touched my shoulder gently. "Eat a little. We don't know how long this will go on, but your health comes first."