The abduction

HARPER'S SUITE – NIGHT

Harper stood before the mirror, tightening the last buckle of her sleek black boots. Her hair was tied up, her eyes calm but sharp.

"I'm going out to meet Quincy!" Harper said firmly as she finished dressing up for the night.

Freya, already pacing nearby, stopped instantly.

"We are coming with you!" Freya said quickly, grabbing her jacket.

"No! The place is quite risky."

"That's why we have to go with you. We have to follow you everywhere you go." Freya insisted.

Harper turned and gave them both a hard look.

"I can't put you guys at risk, so you have to stay behind."

"But—"

"We will stay behind!" Sage interrupted, placing a steady hand on Freya's arm to hold her back.

Harper looked at him with a small, grateful nod.

"Alright, Sage! I will be back before you know. You guys can retire to your rooms."

"Sure we will!"

Sage and Freya trailed her downstairs. A sleek black car pulled up outside. Harper slid into the back seat, glancing once more at the girls.

As the car drove off into the night—

"Why did you tell her that we were going to stay behind?" Freya asked sharply, eyeing Sage with suspicion.

"Who said we are going to stay behind? If anything goes wrong with her, the courtesan house will hold us accountable."

Freya frowned. "You know that, and you allowed her to leave?"

Sage slipped his hands into his coat pockets.

"We are following her. Sure!"

Freya's eyes lit up. "Oh, we can do that?"

"We have to!"

The city lights blurred past. Harper sat quietly, her thoughts deep—until, without warning, a rough hand snatched her phone.

"What the hell was that? Why did you take my phone?" she snapped.

"Because we are taking you away."

"Taking me away?" she repeated, scoffing in disbelief.

Suddenly, one of the guards in the front seat turned. Without warning, they pulled a rope from under the seat and yanked her arms back, tying her wrists tightly.

"What the hell are you doing!" Harper yelled angrily, struggling.

"Shut up!" a guard barked.

"Where are you taking me to?"

"Why do you want to know? Stop being nosy!" And with that, a hard blow landed on her neck. Her head snapped sideways, eyes fluttering shut as she passed out.

The car stopped. The door opened. Harper, limp and seemingly unconscious, stirred slightly. One eye peeked open and shut immediately when she saw someone watching.

"Idiots," she muttered in her mind.

One guard slung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain and carried her into the warehouse, dimly lit and musty. Another made a call.

"Yes, we are in! You can come now! Be fast, we can't stay long in here. You're nearby? Cool then!" He hung up.

Inside, Harper was placed on a chair. Her wrists still appeared bound, but beneath the rope, her fingers worked quickly, loosening the knot. One guard walked up and ran a hand over her cheek.

"She is so pretty."

"I heard she is a courtesan."

"I will be happy forever if I can lay a courtesan for free."

"Stop dreaming, will you?"

"You are awake?" he stammered.

"Definitely!" she hissed—and with a violent tug, wrapped the loosened rope around his neck, pulling it tight. He gasped, struggling.

"You—" he tried to say, but she pulled harder. His face turned red.

"What the hell are you doing?" the second guard shouted, pulling a gun. Harper swung the rope like a whip, knocking the gun from his hand.

Then—she lashed it back, looping it around his neck, yanking him forward. She twisted, tightened—and dropped him cold.

"I asked you politely. You wouldn't answer me."

Suddenly, a voice from behind—

"You can fight pretty well, can't you?"

A blade slashed toward her—Harper dodged it with lightning reflexes.

"You have no idea, do you?" she taunted, smirking.

With a quick twist, she hurled the rope upward, hooking it around a stair rail. She darted around a post, and when the guard chased her upstairs—the rope snapped taut around his neck.

In one movement, she tied the rope to the fallen guard below. The momentum dragged both bodies upward—hanging them midair.

She brushed off her hands with satisfaction.

"They should've given y'all some good guns to fight with!"

Harper picked up one of the guns from the floor and retrieved her phone from the guard's pocket. She sent a message, slipped the phone back into her coat, and walked toward the entrance. She leaned against the door frame, one leg crossed over the other, waiting.

The door swung open. Gianna walked in confidently, flanked by guards.

She screamed.

"What the hell is that?!" she shouted, pointing at the two hanging bodies. "Did they commit suicide? Why are they hanging up there?"

A guard frowned. "Someone probably did that to them."

Gianna stepped forward, confused. "Who will hang two men with one rope? That's ridiculous! Wait up! Did that bitch escape?"

"No I didn't."

Gianna froze.

"Then where the hell is she?"

"Looking for me, Gianna?"

Gianna spun around, and there—Harper stood, gun pointed squarely at her.

The guards immediately raised their weapons, tension thick.

"I knew it would definitely be you, Gianna! No one can be stupid enough to kidnap a courtesan."

"Kill her!" Gianna screamed, pointing wildly. "Kill her right now!"

"Ma'am, she will shoot you!" one of her bodyguards warned.

"I said kill her!" she screeched.

A gunshot rang out. Harper turned instantly, shooting the guard closest to her.

Gianna screamed and bolted—running for the exit. Harper watched, unfazed.

"Bring her back here, Sage!" Harper called out.

Sage emerged from the shadows, dragging Gianna back and shoving her into a chair.

"Ma'am—"

"Why did you follow me?" Harper asked, still breathless from the fight.

"We have to follow you everywhere."

"Thanks for saving me."

"It's my duty."

Gianna sneered. "Do you think you can harm me? You are just a courtesan. I'm the wife of the only son of Dylan."

"I'm his courtesan too."

"My family are Rivers! They will kill you if you touch me!"

"Who said I'm gonna kill you?" Harper smirked. She grabbed Gianna's collar, yanking her to her feet. "Do you think sending these petty thieves after me will get me killed? I was trained as a mafia since I was 15! What chance do you have against me?"

She scoffed. "Your family name?" Harper leaned in, fire in her eyes. "I'm a courtesan, bitch!!!" she shouted.

Gianna flinched, her bravado crumbling.

"If you touch me, your whole family will perish!"

"I'm Quincy's wife! You can't do nothing to me!"

"Really? Watch me!" Harper said coldly.

She let go of her clothes, adjusted her own properly, and—suddenly shoved Gianna backward. Gianna screamed.

Harper grabbed her wrist and twisted hard—

SNAP.

Gianna shrieked.

Then Harper slammed her leg into Gianna's shin—CRACK. Another scream echoed.

"Damn you, Blue!" she cried out, collapsing.

"You forced me to do this! I promised Quincy that I'd break a hand and a leg the next time you provoke me! Just because I'm younger doesn't mean you can override me. I'm crazier than you think, Gianna."

"Harper!" someone shouted from the entrance of the warehouse.

Harper turned sharply, her breath caught in her throat—Quincy was rushing in, his eyes wild with panic.

"Harper, are you okay?" he called, his voice thick with emotion.

Without hesitation, Harper ran into his arms and collapsed against him, trembling. The cold steel of the gun in her hand clattered to the ground as she let herself cry into his chest.

"Oh my Quincy!" she sobbed, her voice muffled. "Did you see what your wife did?"

Quincy wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her like he never wanted to let go. His jaw clenched.

"Oh my God—what did she do to you?" he asked, eyes darting to the bruises on her wrist, the mess of the warehouse, and the limp figure of Gianna crumpled near the wall.

"She wanted to kill me!" Harper cried, her voice rising in disbelief. "She sent those guys—they were touching me."

Quincy's entire body stiffened. Rage flared in his eyes. He broke the embrace and looked around wildly.

"What! Where the hell are they?! I'm gonna kill them!" he roared.

Harper pointed upward silently, her expression bitter. She couldn't bring herself to say it again.

Quincy followed her finger—his mouth fell open.

Two men hung from the warehouse rafters, tangled in the same rope, their bodies lifeless and swaying ever so slightly. His brows lifted in disbelief.

"Did you throw them up there?"

Harper gave a tired shrug, her voice flat. "Kinda."

Quincy looked from her to the bodies again, then turned his furious attention to Gianna, who was just stirring on the ground.

"Gianna, you!" he barked, striding over and grabbing her by the collar. "Why are you trying to hurt Harper—have you gone crazy?!"

Harper watched coldly, wiping her tears away. She didn't move.

Quincy shook her lightly when she didn't respond. "Why is she not speaking? Did you kill her or something?"

"I did not! She fainted!" Harper snapped, almost offended.

Quincy let go and waved his hand toward the door.

"Paige! Get the guards to take Gianna home!" he barked.

Harper stepped outside ahead of him, still shaky on her feet. Quincy quickly followed, gently scooping her up in his arms like she was made of porcelain. He placed her inside the car and got in beside her.

She sat stiffly, eyes still glistening.

"You came late… they almost killed me."

Quincy looked heartbroken. His hand cupped her cheek gently. "What was Sage looking at when you were kidnapped?"

Harper gave a faint smirk.

"It's all thanks to him and Freya that you could still see me now."

Quincy exhaled a relieved breath and kissed her forehead.

"What did you do to Gianna?" he asked cautiously.

Harper stared out the window and shrugged with a smirk.

"Nothing much. I just twisted her wrist and broke her leg."

"What? You really did that?" Quincy looked at her like he was meeting her for the first time.

"She provoked me." Harper crossed her arms.

"I don't know… you are so capable. You killed four men, Harper." His voice was hushed—awed, even.

"They wanted to kill me." she replied simply, without a trace of remorse.

Quincy looked away, running a hand through his hair.

"Will you report to the courtesan house?"

Harper shook her head.

"No need. I already avenged myself."

He turned back to her, a hint of admiration in his gaze.

"Should we go back home?"

"No! We need to see Logan today."

Quincy's face hardened again.

"Our men are already positioned there. I was waiting for you to show up before receiving your message that you were brought here. I was so scared—I came here in a hurry."

Harper's gaze softened.

"Was it the same address that I gave you?"

"Sure! I didn't know you'd still remember the place after five years."

She gave a little smile.

"I was taking notes of everything in my head when I was there."

They shared a brief, knowing glance—something deeper than words passed between them.

"We should go now!" she said, her voice steadier.

"Yes!" Quincy nodded, already signaling the driver to move. The car sped off into the night, both of them ready for the next storm.