Angela's voice sliced through the silence, sharp and unyielding. "Good. Let's get straight to the point."

She set her glass down with deliberate force, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the quiet room. Her fingers lingered on the rim for a moment, as if steadying herself, before she met my gaze with a look that could freeze blood.

"You know about my daughters." It wasn't a question. "I want you to find them. Bring them back here. Alive." Her voice dropped to a near whisper, each word laced with something dark and desperate. "But no one can know. No one inside this fortress—no one except you and me."

I didn't move, my mind racing. This wasn't just a mission. "And if I refuse?" I asked, testing the boundaries, watching her reaction like a hawk.

Angela's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Refusal isn't an option." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a dangerous purr.

"But since you asked—" She reached for her glass again, swirling the liquid inside as if considering her next words carefully. "In exchange, I can give you anything you want. Anything."

I let the word hang between us, feeling the weight of it. "Anything?" I repeated, my tone skeptical.

She nodded once, sharp and final. "Money. Power. Influence. You name it."

I crossed my arms, leaning back on the couch, my gaze never leaving hers. "Alright. I'll bring her back." A pause. "But I have questions first."

Angela's eyes narrowed, but she didn't stop me. "Ask."

"I want to know about you and your daughter." I held her stare, unflinching. "And don't give me that bullshit about not needing to know. If I'm risking my neck for this, I deserve answers. Why not send your army of soldiers? Why me?"

For a moment, Angela didn't move. Then, slowly, she lifted her glass and downed the rest of her drink in one swift motion.

When she set it back down, her hands were trembling—just slightly—but it was her eyes that betrayed her. They were wet, glistening under the dim light, as if my question had struck a nerve she'd spent years burying.

"You don't get to ask the questions here," she said, her voice suddenly raw, the cold mask slipping just enough to reveal the storm beneath. "You follow orders. That's all you need to know."

I wasn't backing down. "Then maybe I'm not your guy."

Angela's expression darkened. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor, and stepped closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Let me make something very clear, Mike."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small device, tapping it once. The wall across from us flickered to life, displaying a live feed of a dimly lit room.

My breath caught as I recognized it—Emily's room. My wife was there, curled up on the couch, unaware she was being watched. Angela swiped again, and the feed changed—this time to my mother-in-law, who was working in the kitchen.

Then another swipe—Oliver, laughing with his men, oblivious to the betrayal unfolding behind his back.

My stomach twisted.

Angela's voice was ice. "You think you have a choice?" She stepped even closer, her breath warm against my ear.

"Just know you're working for me. And you'll follow my orders." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper.

"Unless you want something to happen to your wife, Emily... or your mother-in-law."

A pause. A slow, deliberate beat. Then, like a knife twisting, she added, "Or unless you want Oliver to find out you've been fucking them both behind his back, hmm?"

She laughed, low and mocking. "I know everything, Mike. Every whisper. Every touch. Every secret you thought you buried."

I clenched my fists, my mind racing. "What do you want?"

"I want my daughters back," she hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "And I want you to be the one to do it. Because if you fail—" She gestured to the screens, the images of my life—my secrets—laid bare.

"If you fail, I won't just ruin you. I'll make sure Oliver finds out everything before I let him kill you. And then? I'll make sure Emily and your dear mother-in-law join you in the grave." She leaned back, her eyes cold and triumphant. "So tell me, Mike. Do we have an understanding?"

The air in the room felt thick, suffocating. I swallowed hard, my mind racing through the implications, the threats, the sheer control she had over me. She had me by the throat, and she knew it.

"We have an understanding," I said finally, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. Anyway, she is talking about Mike, not me.

Angela smiled, slow and dangerous, like a wolf who'd just cornered its prey. "Good." She turned away, her fingers tapping the device once more. The screens flickered and died, plunging the room back into dim, shadowed silence. "Then don't disappoint me."

She turned back to me, her expression shifting into something colder, more calculating. "I don't have the exact location," she admitted, her voice clipped.

"But this—" She tapped the device again, and a holographic map flickered to life above the table, glowing blue in the dim light. A red marker pulsed steadily in a remote, densely forested area. "—is the last known location of their vehicle."

I leaned in, my eyes narrowing as I studied the map. The coordinates were precise, almost unnervingly so. "How the hell did you get this?" I asked, my voice tinged with skepticism. "You've got satellites in space already?"

Angela didn't look up. "Let's just say I have resources you wouldn't understand." Her fingers danced over the device, zooming in on the location.

"They must've disabled the GPS by now. They're not stupid. But this is where they were last seen. After that?" She finally met my gaze, her eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable. "You're on your own."

I crossed my arms, studying the map again. The area was vast—dense forests, winding rivers, and no clear roads. "You're sending me into a needle-in-a-haystack situation with no backup. What makes you think I can even find them?"

Angela's lips curled into that infuriating smirk again. "Because you're resourceful. And because you don't have a choice." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, sleek device, tossing it to me. I caught it instinctively, my fingers closing around the cold metal.

"What's this?" I asked, turning it over in my hand.

"A tracker," she said simply. "For when you find them. It'll signal me directly—no middlemen, no interference. You bring them back, you use that, and we're done." Her voice hardened. "But if you try to double-cross me, if you even think about running? That device has a failsafe. And trust me, Mike, you don't want to find out what it does."

I clenched my jaw, feeling the weight of the device in my palm. It was more than a tracker. It was a leash. "And if I don't come back?"

Angela's gaze didn't waver. "Then I'll assume you failed. And you already know what happens if you fail." She didn't need to say it again. The images of Emily and my mother-in-law flashed in my mind, a silent, suffocating threat.

I pocketed the device, my fingers brushing against the cold metal. "Fine," I said, my voice low. "I'll find them. But I'm not doing this alone. I need weapons. Supplies. A way to move without being seen."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.