CHAPTER 47

The Capture

Pain explodes through my skull before I even understand what's happening. A brutal force slams into my side, knocking the air from my lungs. My knees buckle as I hit the cold, unforgiving ground. A boot presses against my ribs, pinning me down.

Voices blur around me—low, commanding tones. I taste blood. My pulse hammers in my ears, each beat a warning that I don't have time to process.

Move. Fight back. Do something.

I twist, trying to get a hand under me, but another blow crushes into my stomach. The world tilts as I gasp for breath. Rough hands yank my arms behind me, securing them with something cold and unyielding—steel.

Handcuffs.

"Stay down, Nathan," a voice murmurs, amused. "Wouldn't want to make this harder than it has to be."

Familiar. Too familiar.

I lift my head, my vision swimming. A figure crouches beside me, smirking. Mason. One of Julian's most loyal enforcers. His dark eyes gleam with satisfaction.

"You look surprised," he says. "Thought you were smarter than this."

My jaw clenches. I was careful. Every step, every decision. Yet here I am—on my knees, breathing through pain, outnumbered.

I force my voice to steady. "How did you find me?"

Mason chuckles, tapping his earpiece. "You never really left our radar. Just let you run long enough to think you had control."

Rage simmers under my skin, but anger won't get me out of this. I need clarity. A plan.

Then I hear it—a soft, rhythmic hum in the distance. A helicopter. Engines growling, closing in. My stomach sinks. They planned this. Every escape route I thought I had is gone.

Mason stands, signaling to the others. "Get him up."

Hands grip my arms, hauling me to my feet. My knees threaten to buckle, but I lock them in place. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing weakness.

The hood comes down over my head before I can get a glimpse of where they're taking me. Darkness swallows me whole.

I don't know how long the journey lasts.

The helicopter's roar fades into a distant hum. The next thing I register is the sensation of metal beneath me—cool, rigid. The interior of a transport van, maybe. My wrists ache from the cuffs. Every muscle in my body protests, but I force myself to stay still, breathing through the discomfort.

The vehicle slows. A heavy door slides open, and I'm yanked forward. Boots echo off the ground. The air is stale, thick with something metallic. Blood? Rust?

I'm dragged down a hallway. My mind sharpens, cataloging every sound, every shift in movement. A door groans open.

Then—silence.

The hood is ripped off. Blinding light sears my vision. I squint, blinking rapidly. The room is vast, sterile. White walls. No windows. A single chair sits in the center.

And then I see him.

Julian.

He stands with the ease of a man who's already won. Dressed in his usual tailored suit, he exudes control. Amusement flickers in his dark gaze as he watches me, head tilted slightly.

"Welcome back, Nathan," he says smoothly. "We have so much to talk about."

I refuse to react.

Julian gestures toward the chair. "Sit."

The guards shove me forward. I catch my balance before I can stumble. My pulse pounds, but I keep my expression neutral. If Julian thinks he can break me, he's going to have to work for it.

I take a slow step forward and drop into the chair, keeping my back straight, my chin high.

"Now," Julian continues, pacing leisurely. "I have to admit, you were quite the headache these past few months. I underestimated your persistence."

His voice is almost conversational, but there's something sharp beneath it.

"You underestimated a lot of things," I say.

Julian laughs, shaking his head. "Still so defiant. I admire that about you. Truly. But let's be clear—you're here because I allowed it. Every road you thought you chose? I laid it out for you."

Lies.

But… a whisper of doubt coils in my chest. Did he always know? Every step, every decision I made—was it part of his game?

No. I refuse to believe that.

"You want something," I say. "You wouldn't have brought me in alive otherwise."

Julian's smile widens. "Smart. Yes, I do."

He stops in front of me, leaning in slightly. His cologne is subtle but unmistakable—expensive, calculated. Like everything about him.

"I need you to do something for me," he murmurs.

A slow exhale leaves my lips. "Not happening."

Julian hums, amused. "You haven't even heard the offer."

I don't need to.

Julian snaps his fingers. The door opens.

A guard drags someone in.

My body goes rigid.

No.

Not them.

My mind blanks for half a second before a sharp, electric fury roars through me. My teeth clench so hard my jaw aches.

"Let them go," I growl.

Julian's smile never falters. "That depends on you."

The air in the room shifts—thick, suffocating. My fists clench against the restraints. Every fiber of me screams to move, to act, but I force myself to stay still. Reacting now won't help.

Julian steps back, satisfied. "You have a decision to make, Nathan. Play along… or watch everything you care about burn."

I don't answer.

I can't.

My mind races, calculating, measuring every possibility. There has to be a way out. A way to flip the board before Julian makes the final move.

The guards tense, waiting for my reaction. Julian tilts his head.

"Tick-tock," he murmurs.

The walls feel tighter, the air thinner. I lock eyes with him, forcing steel into my voice.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance."

Julian's smile sharpens. "Oh, Nathan. Where's the fun in that?"

The door slams shut, locking me in.