NOVPUBThey pointed their weapons straight at the driver, who remained unnervingly calm. Again, he waited.
Jade didn't speak for a moment.
Her mind was racing, calculating risks, recalling everything Ross had taught her. Stay calm.
Then she sighed and said softly, "Unlock them."
There was a soft click as the locks disengaged.
The doors were flung open.
Rough hands grabbed her, dragging her out of the back seat before she could even adjust her posture.
She stumbled slightly but didn't scream. Didn't fight.
Her mind was already elsewhere—trying to memorize every detail: the insignia on one man's vest, the rough fabric of the gloves gripping her, the faint smell of oil and sweat in the van they shoved her into.
She tried to count how many there were. Five? Six? One in the front. Three around the van. Two inside, watching her.
The moment the door slammed shut behind her, the vehicle peeled away from the scene, disappearing into the traffic with terrifying efficiency.
No shots fired. No witnesses. Just a cold, clean abduction. 𝓷ℴ𝓿𝓅𝓊𝒷.𝓬𝓸𝓂
Meanwhile, her driver didn't move.
But then something strange happened—something totally unexpected.
The driver's features began to shift. The pale, expressionless face slowly morphed, the illusion unraveling like mist.
Skin tone changed, bone structure realigned, and in seconds, the man sitting behind the wheel was no longer one of Ross's undead soldiers.
It was Ross himself.
Ross glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his expression calm—amused, even.
"Perfect," he murmured with a slight smirk curling at the corners of his mouth.
Without another word, he turned the key, and the engine roared to life.
Tires screeched as the car lunged forward, merging into the road and tailing the kidnappers' van with surgical precision.
He drove like a man possessed—focused, aggressive, completely in control. To anyone else, it might've looked like a high-speed chase.
But to Ross, this was a game.
And the people who thought they had outmaneuvered him were about to learn just how badly they'd underestimated the wrong man.
***
The masked men reached the hideout just as the sky began to darken, painting the edges of the horizon in streaks of deep orange and dull gray.
The place was remote, tucked away beyond a stretch of abandoned industrial warehouses and dense woodland—far enough from civilization that no one would hear a scream, let alone notice a van pulling into the rusted gates.
They thought it was over. They believed they had succeeded.
They didn't even realize they were being watched.
Inside the compound, Thomas stood near the entrance, hands clasped behind his back, waiting with a calmness that almost seemed unnatural.
He had overseen the preparations himself: the building was cleared, the surveillance systems were wiped clean, and the rooms inside had been reinforced and outfitted for one purpose only.
He didn't trust anyone with this task. Not his hired mercenaries. Not his spies. Not even his loyal aides.
This was something he had to manage personally—because this wasn't just a power move.
This was about Jade.
The van came to a stop. One of the masked men jumped out and signaled the others.
Thomas stepped forward, his voice firm and quiet.
"That's far enough. Leave her to me."
The leader hesitated. "We can bring her—"
"No," Thomas cut him off sharply.
"You've done your part. Now go secure the perimeter and guard the gates. No one in. No one out. Not without my word."
The men exchanged glances, then nodded and moved to take up positions.
Thomas walked slowly to the back of the van.
His heart was pounding—not with nerves, but with anticipation. He reached for the door handle, paused for a moment, then opened it.
There she was.
Jade lay motionless on the seat, limbs gently folded, head resting to the side. Her long lashes brushed against her cheek, her lips slightly parted.
The scent of the sedative still lingered faintly in the air, carried by the handkerchief loosely clutched in one of her gloved hands.
Ross's people had done their job well—too well, in fact. They'd made her too comfortable in their care. Too trusting. And now, that trust had left her unprotected.
Thomas climbed into the van and crouched beside her.
His gaze swept over her delicate features, her expensive coat, her jewelry—all the signs of power, control, status.
But right now, she had none of those things. Right now, she was simply… his.
He reached forward and gently lifted her into his arms.
Her body was soft and warm, her breathing slow and even.
As he carried her out of the van, her head rested lightly against his chest.
She smelled like jasmine and something else—something uniquely hers.
That scent hit him harder than he expected. It coiled inside him, igniting something primal that had been building for far too long.
He clenched his jaw.
Thomas had waited. He had watched her from a distance, spoken to her in boardrooms, danced around her indifference with smiles and subtle compliments.
He had offered her everything—money, influence, safety. And yet, she always returned to Ross. Always looked past him.
But not today.
Tonight, she had no choice.
He carried her inside the compound, his steps measured, purposeful.
The room had been prepared: soundproofed, warm, outfitted with comforts meant to disarm her.
Soft lighting. Plush bedding. Food and water ready nearby.
There was no cruelty in the space—at least not on the surface.
Thomas wanted her to wake up feeling disoriented, but not terrified. Not yet.
He laid her down on the bed gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
His heart pounded again—louder now, heavier.
He could feel himself harden at the sheer proximity, the reality of it sinking in.
After all these months of yearning and frustration, of imagining what it would be like to have her this close, to finally touch her without resistance… the moment had finally come.
And yet he didn't rush.
He sat down beside her and simply looked. The urge to take what he wanted burned hot within him, but he wasn't a savage.
Not yet.
