Adrian moved along the backside of the hideout like a shadow.
Every step—
Measured.
Controlled.
Silent.
The darkness wrapped around him, hiding him perfectly as he scaled the rough surface with practiced ease. His grip was firm, his breathing steady, his senses sharp.
No room for mistakes.
Not tonight.
He reached the edge of the rooftop and paused, lowering his body slightly as he peeked over.
His eyes scanned the area instantly.
Corners.
Blind spots.
Movement.
Two guards.
Careless.
Unaware.
A faint smirk touched his lips.
"Amateurs."
With one swift motion, he pulled himself up and landed on the rooftop without making a single sound. His boots barely brushed the surface.
Below, through his earpiece, faint whispers confirmed—
His men had already taken down several guards.
Clean.
Quiet.
Efficient.
Good.
Adrian adjusted his grip on his weapon and moved toward the stair entrance.
Step by step—
He descended.
Each movement precise.
Each breath controlled.
The deeper he went, the heavier the air became.
This place—
It didn't feel right.
Too quiet.
Too empty.
His instincts screamed.
Trap.
—
He reached the hallway.
Dark.
Narrow.
Silent.
And then—
Footsteps.
Approaching.
Adrian's body reacted instantly.
He slipped behind a thick pillar, blending into the shadows, his weapon ready.
The sound grew closer.
Two guards.
Talking softly.
Heading toward the rooftop.
Adrian waited.
Perfect timing.
Perfect angle.
But just as he was about to strike—
He stopped.
Something felt off.
Too easy.
His smirk returned slightly.
"Let's play."
He moved forward instead of attacking, slipping deeper into the hallway before they could notice him.
But—
The moment he took another step—
Something cold pressed against the back of his head.
A gun.
Adrian froze.
Not out of fear.
But awareness.
A voice followed.
Cold.
Commanding.
"Turn around."
A pause.
Then—
Adrian smiled.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
He turned.
And there he was.
Marcus.
Nikolai's second in command.
Recognition flickered instantly.
Adrian's smirk widened.
"So…"
His voice dripped with mockery.
"You're Nikolai's most trusted dog."
Marcus's expression twisted with anger.
"You son of a—"
He didn't get to finish.
Adrian moved faster.
The butt of his gun slammed hard against Marcus's forehead.
A sickening sound echoed softly.
Marcus staggered back—
Disoriented.
But Adrian didn't stop.
He stepped in—
And delivered a brutal kick straight to Marcus's stomach.
The force sent him crashing against the wall, a choked gasp escaping his lips as blood spilled from his mouth.
Marcus tried to recover—
But Adrian grabbed him by the collar, slamming him harder against the wall.
His voice dropped.
Low.
Deadly.
"Where is she?"
Marcus smirked despite the pain.
"Too late…"
Blood trickled down his lips.
"You're already too late."
Adrian's grip tightened.
His patience thinning.
"Wrong answer."
His fist drove into Marcus's jaw this time.
Hard.
Again.
And again.
Each hit precise.
Controlled.
Brutal.
Marcus's body went limp for a second—
But he laughed weakly.
"You walked into it…"
he whispered.
"…just like we planned."
Adrian stilled.
Just for a second.
His eyes darkened.
"That's fine."
A dangerous calm settled over him.
"I like breaking plans."
He threw Marcus aside like he was nothing.
Then turned—
Moving deeper inside.
Faster now.
More aggressive.
Because time—
Was running out.
—
Meanwhile—
Inside the locked room—
Elena stood near the window.
Her fingers pressed lightly against the cold glass.
Her eyes scanning the darkness outside.
Searching.
Hoping.
Her heart beat faster with every second.
Because something—
Felt different.
The air.
The silence.
The tension.
Like something was happening.
Something close.
Her mind raced.
Escape.
The word echoed again and again.
She couldn't stay here.
Not like this.
Not waiting.
Not breaking.
Her jaw clenched tightly.
"I have to try…"
she whispered under her breath.
But just as she took a step toward the door—
She heard it.
Footsteps.
Approaching.
Her breath hitched.
Panic surged instantly.
Without thinking—
She rushed back to the bed.
Pulled the blanket over herself.
Closed her eyes tightly.
Pretending.
Sleeping.
Her heart pounded violently in her chest.
Loud enough—
She thought they could hear it.
The footsteps stopped outside the door.
A pause.
Then—
The sound of the lock clicking.
Her body tensed.
Completely still.
The door opened slowly.
She could feel it.
Even with her eyes closed.
A presence.
Watching.
Heavy.
Silent.
Dangerous.