Chapter 24

• The abandoned warehouse smelled of mildew and decay, a fitting backdrop for the final act of their desperate drama. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of moonlight slicing through a grimy window high above, illuminating the scene like a macabre spotlight. Cleo stood beside Rowan, her hand trembling slightly as she gripped the small, antique pistol tucked into the waistband of her jeans. It was a weapon she’d never imagined herself wielding, a stark symbol of the life she’d been forced to embrace.
• Julian stood across the cavernous space, silhouetted against the dim light, his figure radiating an unnerving calm. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his expensive suit a jarring contrast to the gritty surroundings. The air crackled with unspoken threats, the silence punctuated only by the occasional drip of water echoing from a leaky pipe somewhere in the shadows. His eyes, cold and calculating, swept over them, assessing their preparedness, gauging their fear. He was a predator, and they were his prey, trapped in his carefully orchestrated game.
• “You’ve made a mistake, Cleo,” Julian’s voice sliced through the stillness, smooth and deceptively calm. “Running away was a foolish act. I always find what’s mine.”