Chapter 70: The Hunt Begins

Chris didn't waste time. He left the balcony, moving with quiet precision through the grand halls of Blackwood Estate. The weight of his decision sat heavy, but there was no hesitation. Zayne had chosen his fate the moment he broke free.

Ethan was waiting for him in the study, a tablet in hand, displaying a map with red-marked locations. Chris sat across from him, his sharp eyes scanning the screen.

"We've narrowed it down to three potential hideouts," Ethan said, zooming in on the most recent sighting. "Zayne is smart. He's keeping his movements erratic, never staying in one place for long. But he made a mistake."

Chris raised a brow. "Go on."

Ethan smirked slightly. "He needed resources. A man like Zayne doesn't just disappear. He needs contacts, people willing to hide him. One of our informants caught wind of a large cash withdrawal in the underground market—paid in full, no questions asked. The timing is too convenient."

Chris leaned back, fingers steepled together. "Where?"

Ethan tapped the screen. "A warehouse near the docks. It's not one of his usual spots, which makes it a good temporary hideout."

Chris's jaw tightened. "How many men?"

"At least four," Ethan replied. "Possibly more. He won't be alone."

Chris was silent for a moment before standing. "We move tonight."

Ethan studied him carefully. "You're coming?"

Chris's expression remained unreadable. "I'm ending this myself."

Ethan sighed but didn't argue. He knew Chris well enough—when he made up his mind, there was no changing it.

---

Midnight – The Docks

The night was thick with tension as Chris and his team arrived near the abandoned warehouse. It was a quiet area, away from prying eyes. The perfect place for a man on the run.

Ethan signaled to the others, and they spread out, taking positions. Chris stood at the edge of the shadows, his gaze fixed on the dimly lit entrance. He could hear faint voices inside—Zayne's men, unaware of what was coming.

Chris pulled out his silenced weapon, his grip firm. "No survivors."

Ethan gave a curt nod before signaling the attack.

A second later, the silence was shattered.

The first guard never saw it coming—one clean shot, and he was down. The others reacted too slowly. Chris moved like a shadow, precise and deadly, cutting through the chaos with calculated efficiency.

Gunfire erupted, but it was over quickly. The element of surprise had given them the upper hand.

Then, a familiar voice rang out from deeper inside.

"You really think you can kill me that easily?"

Chris turned, his eyes narrowing as Zayne stepped into view. He looked rougher than before—unkempt hair, desperation flickering in his gaze—but there was still arrogance in his smirk.

Chris didn't speak. He simply raised his gun.

Zayne laughed, shaking his head. "What, no last words? No dramatic speech?"

Chris's voice was calm, almost bored. "You're not worth it."

Zayne's smirk faltered. "You think you're untouchable, don't you?" His tone turned venomous. "You think Skylar will love you when she finds out what you really are?"

Chris didn't flinch. "She won't find out."

Before Zayne could respond, Chris pulled the trigger.

A single shot. Clean. Final.

Zayne staggered, eyes wide with disbelief, before crumpling to the ground.

Chris exhaled slowly, lowering his weapon. There was no satisfaction, no triumph. Just another threat eliminated.

Ethan stepped forward, glancing at the lifeless body. "It's done."

Chris nodded, his expression unreadable. "Burn it."

No evidence. No loose ends.

As the flames consumed the warehouse, Chris turned away, stepp

ing back into the darkness.

Zayne was gone.

But the war was far from over.